


An Adventure in Babysitting

by cleopatras



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bodyguard, Enemies to Lovers, M/M, Post-Canon, Recovery, Slow Burn, all canon couples are implied, and renison of course, andrew is his babysitter, everything from the book happened but minus the twins, heavily character driven, if you find the plot let me know, my weird canon is explained in the first chapter i promise, neil is a pretty rich boy with issues, neil is a recovering alcoholic, wymack adopted neil
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-02
Updated: 2020-11-21
Packaged: 2021-02-27 11:14:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 24,774
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22076041
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cleopatras/pseuds/cleopatras
Summary: Neil Josten is the famous adoptive son of professional Exy coach, David Wymack and a pretty boy with drinking issues. Following multiple drunken arrests and publicity mishaps, Wymack assigns Neil to be watched over by one of his star players who is the only person tough and reckless enough to truly keep him in line: Andrew Minyard.
Relationships: Neil Josten/Andrew Minyard
Comments: 76
Kudos: 433





	1. Bad Decisions

Neil was really, _really_ good at making bad decisions. This thought was reinforced as the jailer slammed the bars closed as he hung onto them, leaning his face against the cool metal with a heavy sigh. Sure, it was just public intoxication, but what else was a famous pretty boy good for? Sure as hell wasn’t good for his talent, there wasn’t much of that left. The only thing left was the money and the madness. He was sobering up as he groaned and made his way over to the cement bench in the corner of the holding cell. Had this been five years ago, he would have been cursing out the cops and offering bribes to get him out of here. Now, they knew him by name. The little dance they did was getting old. 

As if on cue, Neil’s publicist and best friend, Allison came storming into the room. The heels of her Louboutins clicked on the hard floors as she walked over to speak to the officer. With a heavy sigh, he stood and unlocked the cell door. 

“God, I hate rich people,” the officer muttered under his breath and Neil smirked as he all but tap-danced out of the holding cell.

“Ah, see you next week, Rick!” he exclaimed as Allison rolled her eyes and pulled him out of the room by the ear. 

As soon as they were out of the police department building, Allison smacked the living shit out of him. He groaned and clutched his cheek, “Dammit, you hit me with your rings on and everything? What bit you in the ass?” 

“Your alcoholism!” she exclaimed in frustration, “Wymack is going to have my head for letting you get out of hand _again._ Come on, let’s get back to the apartment before you get your ass arrested again.”

The two piled into the car as Allison gave the instructions to the driver and leaned back in her seat, tapping away on her phone as she already got started on damage control. Of course, the paparazzi had eaten this up and photos of his arrest were already over every social media site known to man. Neil wouldn’t be surprised if a picture popped up on his old Myspace account. However, this was the norm. 

“Are you mad at me?” Neil asked, sounding like a wounded puppy dog as the girl scoffed. The two had been through so much together. Hell, she and his adoptive father, David Wymack, were the only people who knew his real name and all the shit he had been through. Even his adoptive brother, Wymack’s real son, Kevin, didn’t even know the half of it. 

Allison sighed and spoke without looking up from her phone, “I’m not mad, I just wish you could deal with your shit normally. Like, therapy or something. If I can keep my shit together after Seth died, you can deal with stuff that happened years ago.” 

“The scar on my cheek begs to differ, I barely escaped with my life and that was barely half a decade ago. That’s not something someone just gets over,” he huffed, his thoughts starkly sobering as he shuddered with the memory. Absentmindedly, his fingers traced over the prominent burn scar on his cheek. “Besides, I thought drinking away my sorrows _was_ a relatively normal coping mechanism.”

“Doesn’t mean it’s a good one,” the woman sighed, looking up at the man for just a moment before they flicked back to her phone, “Jesus, we’re gonna have to pay off a lot of people.” 

As they got back to the apartment building where Wymack took up residence in the penthouse along with Neil, Kevin, and a few other kids he had taken in to make his own little halfway house. Granted, Neil and Kevin were the only ones that were legally his, that didn’t stop him. Apparently, a pair of twins had passed through the Wymack daycare, but the only thing that remained was their flamboyant cousin, Nicky who had had a crush on Neil for years, but Neil had never met the twins. According to Nicky, they lived on their own somewhere in the city because they didn’t like “handouts” as their cousin always phrased it. Other than Nicky, Allison lived on the floor below them with her best friend, Renee, although it had been years since her boyfriend Seth kicked the bucket and Neil was pretty sure she and Renee were a little bit more than friends at this point. However, that wasn’t his business until she wanted to make it his and he was okay with that. Dan and Matt were some of Neil’s favorites, too, but they lived downtown now. That didn’t stop everyone from rotating in and out of the penthouse at the most random of times. 

“Hey, Coach! We’re home!” Allison exclaimed as they entered the room. However, an announcement was deemed unnecessary as the man was already waiting with arms crossed. 

Of course, there was the man of the house. Coach David Wymack, who coached one of the most successful underdog Exy teams of all time. Neil had played in college but quit before Wymack could coax him onto the professional team after graduation. They were mainly famous for poaching Neil’s brother, Kevin Day from the Ravens after a broken hand following a “ski accident.” That was years ago now, years before the Ravens was exposed for being a mafia front and their star player, Riko Moriyama, Kevin’s adoptive brother, killed himself. Well, according to the media “killed himself,” but bygones are bygones. Kevin was the star, always had been, but after Neil was kidnapped by his father and rescued he fell off the rails. A lot can happen when your life flashes before your eyes. Sometimes Neil wondered if Wymack hated him for everything that happened. After all, everything was fine before Neil came into their lives. Not to mention Neil was the only one who refused to be an Exy star even though he was still a Fox by blood. 

“Again, Neil?” was all the man had to say, but that was worse than the yelling. He would take yelling and screaming over the disappointed look in the man’s eyes. “I shouldn’t be getting calls from the police every week saying my son punched a police officer or is chugging a bottle of vodka in the middle of the street. I hate having to treat you like a kid, but I’ve called in a favor with one of my players. He’s gonna keep you out of trouble for now until you can do it yourself.”

“A babysitter? Are you serious?” Neil groaned, feeling his head began to pound with his oncoming hangover migraine. “I’m literally almost thirty!” 

“You’re twenty-five,” Allison scoffed from next to him, “I, for one, think it’s a great idea. Take him off my hands, I am begging you. I mean, I love you, Neil, but Jesus Christ, some of us have lives, too. Lives that shouldn’t include picking you up from jail twice a week.” 

“Thank you, Allison,” Wymack smiled at her, it was gentle and grateful as he often had to be when she bailed him out of situations like this, “Go ahead and head in for the night if you’d like, I’ve got it from here.” 

“Thank God,” she sighed as she began to leave, calling out her goodbyes behind her. Now, it was just Neil and Wymack. 

With them alone, Neil huffed, crossing his arms as he faced the man who was much taller than him and much more intimidating. “If you’re gonna give me a babysitter can it at least be someone cool like Dan? Or Matt?” 

“Ideally, I wanted someone who you’re _not_ friends with,” the man explained, looking exasperated. “I’m giving you Andrew Minyard.” 

Neil groaned openly and dramatically flung himself onto the couch, “You’re gonna make me hang out with one of your _good_ players? Give me a benchwarmer, at least, they’re much less pretentious.” 

“Everywhere you go, he goes, and vice versa. See you at the stadium to watch practice first thing tomorrow morning,” Wymack instructed, ushering multiple complaints from Neil. This was, without a doubt, bullshit, but he knew he wasn’t going to be getting out of it. However, that was not going to stop him from attempting to escape from Andrew. Neil made a note of avoiding him as he did most of Wymack’s star players. If Kevin was anything to go off of, they were all exy-obsessed and had far too many issues and Neil had enough of that of his own. He would be happy to mooch off of Wymack’s exy money while he did his own thing and stayed as far away from the team and sport as possible. Wymack bid him goodnight and left him laying on the couch where he eventually dozed off. 

However, one thought crossed his mind before he eventually passed out: He was _not_ going to put up with a stupid babysitter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the canon is a little funky, but basically Neil played on the college team at Palmetto with Kevin and a few of the other professional Foxes before they graduated, but he never played with the twins as they left Wymack for college and came back only to play professionally for him after graduating. Everything happened except Neil hasn't met Andrew, he now hates Exdy for reasons that will be explained, and he was adopted by Wymack. Okay, I haven't written a chaptered fic on here since sophomore year of high school so let's see how this works out.


	2. Dibs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Neil, famous exy hater, is forced to sit in on practice for the sake of his babysitter. Said exy hater, also hates his babysitter.

To say Neil hated Exy was almost an understatement. Sure, he played in college and had loved it then, but a lot has happened since college. Too much. Lots of people fear they’ll never make it to graduation, not many people fear this because their father’s mafia is after them. Wymack had attempted to put Neil in therapy with someone he trusted, this person is his wife Abby, but there was no getting through to him. At one point Neil would have died for the sport, now it was just a grim reminder of how supremely fucked up he was. 

Thanks to his overeager brother, Kevin, the two of them were the first to the stadium for practice this morning. It was offseason so no games or traveling to deal with, thank God. Neil might have to kill himself if Wymack made him ride along to all the games across the country. Despite being the son of the coach, Neil still had yet to meet the entire team. He knew the ones he played with in college, of course, but there were still people he had never bothered to even learn the names of. Two of those people Neil neglected to learn about must have been the twins. Aaron and Andrew Minyard, he learned. According to Kevin, one of them was a murderer. However, he neglected to enlighten Neil as to whether the murderous one was the one Neil could ignore or the one Neil would be spending all of his time with. 

“God, I hate being back here,” Neil spoke with disgust in his voice as he crossed his arms and observed the stadium. It was incredibly similar to the one he played in while at school except much, much bigger. 

“I don’t know how you could hate this sport,” Kevin scoffed as he began to prepare for practice and wait for the others to arrive. His hair had grown longer in the offseason; Neil was currently in the process of trying to bribe Allison into braiding it while Kevin was asleep, but that was a work in progress. Kevin seemed tired of life most of the time, especially when putting up with Neil and his antics. However, the only time he truly seemed to come alive was when he played. Neil remembered when he used to feel like that, but that was a ghost of a memory that hardly even felt like him anymore. “You were so good at it.” 

“Good does not compare to trauma, I’m afraid,” the man said with a shrug as he lounged on the bench with crossed arms. 

He reached for his pack of cigarettes, but Kevin snatched it out of his hands, saying, “You can’t smoke in here, dumbass.” 

“I already have to be here against my will, you’re not gonna let me smoke either? Jesus, everyone’s my babysitter these days,” he complained, laughing gently as Kevin teasingly shoved him by the head and the two began lightly roughhousing. This was pretty much the closest they got to acting like brothers. 

“Enough of that, boys,” Wymack interrupted with his booming voice. He sounded serious, but looking at his face Neil caught the glance of a small half-smile. Wymack always loved it when Kevin and Neil got along. “The others should be here soon, we’ll start with some conditioning. Neil, practicing or watching?” 

“I would rather be dead than step onto that court again,” Neil mused, however when he saw the man’s dissatisfied expression he sighed and said, “Watching.” 

“Perfect,” Wymack affirmed as the sound of the door slamming open ricocheted off of the stadium walls. Allison, along with Renee, entered the stadium and the taller girl looked utterly pissed off as usual. 

“Wymack, why do we have to be here so early? It’s offseason! We can’t start at like… 8 or something? For once?” Allison complained as she and Renee began to get ready for practice as well. 

Beside her, Renee scoffed as she smiled at the other woman, “To be fair, we  _ are _ early. Really, this is your own fault.” 

“Can it,” Allison shushed with a small giggle as the two laughed. 

More people followed as players began filing into the stadium. Neil looked around for someone he had played with or at least someone he knew. Above the small group, he saw the dark-haired head of Matt Boyd followed by Dan Wilds and of course, Nicky was walking alongside them. Next to Nicky, however, were two blond-haired men that were about the size of twelve-year-olds. Now, Neil was in no way tall, but he had no expected these oh-so-terrifying twins to be so  _ short. _

“ _ Those _ are the twins? They’re practically toddlers,” Neil snickered and Kevin smacked his arm as he went to greet his team. 

“Andrew can and will kill you if you say that shit loud enough,” Allison intruded into the conversation with a whimsical laugh, “Especially if he’s got an exy stick in his hand, he’ll gut ya.” 

“He cannot be that scary,” Neil chuckled as he looked at the girl. She nodded to space next to him as Neil turned around and saw one of the twins standing next to him. He nearly jumped out of his skin, causing Allison to giggle and turn back to Renee. “Andrew or Aaron.” 

The twin shrugged, “Guess.” 

“Aaron?” 

“Sure,” the man sighed, showing little to no emotion on his face. It was almost scary. 

“Andrew, stop pretending to be me,” the other twin instructed as he walked by and Neil breathed a sigh of relief, “Check the armbands if you aren’t sure.” 

Sure enough, the twin in front of Neil adorned two matching black armbands that went just above the elbow. So, this was  _ the _ Andrew Minyard. “You’re not as scary as I’ve heard.”

Andrew simply shrugged, “You haven’t pissed me off, yet. Try not to pull any shit, I already don’t want to be your watcher, but I owe Wymack a lot of favors over the years. Just let me play and don’t start anything.”

“Starting shit is my sole past time,” Neil spoke with a deadpan expression, “Ask anyone here.” 

“I already don’t like you.” 

“Join the club,” he teased as he lounged on the bench, watching everyone prepare for warm-ups. This Andrew was quite the character, that much he could tell. Although there wasn’t much else to pick up on at this point except for the no-bullshit personality Neil was sure Wymack adored. 

Speaking of Wymack, his voice rang clear, “Minyard, I know you’re supposed to focus on my son, but don’t scare him too much.” 

Andrew shrugged, “Not my fault if he’s scared.” 

“Just get ready for practice, please?” Wymack sounded almost exasperated, which Neil found to be peculiar. He was sure their relationship was complicated; Wymack tended to do that with the kids he watched over the years. Especially so if Andrew owed him favors. There was a story there, one Neil had more interest in than he’d like to admit. 

The blond gave Neil one last once-over before jogging over to join most of the players as they grouped up and prepared for practice. Before Nicky could run over, Neil grabbed him gently by the arm to stop him. 

Asking, “What’s your cousin’s deal? Andrew?” 

Nicky made an expression that could only be described as ‘yikes’ before answering, “Uh, a better question to ask would be what  _ isn’t  _ his deal, but uh, yeah. I know he owes Wymack a lot of favors, but having him watch you is cashing in like ten of those so try not to stress him out too much because, don’t take this the wrong way, your five-year-breakdown might be a lot to handle for someone who hasn’t known you as long as I have.”

“Okay, understandable, but why does he already hate me? We met five minutes ago,” Neil sighed, his eyes trained on the small blond figure in the horde of exy players, “Kinda rude.” 

The tanned man simply shrugged, “I dunno. All I know is he called dibs so I’m shit outta luck on my hall pass, that’ll make Erik happy. The meds make him a little eh, so don’t judge him too harshly.” 

_ Meds? Jesus, what had Wymack gotten him into?  _ Neil was already his own headcase, he didn’t need to deal with another. He had enough troubles with his own mind thrown into the mix. Another thing struck him as odd about Nicky’s statement. Dibs? What the hell was that supposed to mean? Jesus, this guy was too much to work out. Was it too much to ask for Neil to meet one simple person in his life? Why did they all have to be complicated products of Wymack’s halfway house? 

“Are you done with questions?” Nicky asked with a small smile as his eyes darted between Neil and his teammates. 

“Yeah, yeah, go practice,” Neil brushed him off with a sigh as he crossed his arms in utter frustration. He was still in disbelief that Wymack had given him a babysitter. Let alone that him having a babysitter required him to sit in on exy practice every day. As he watched everyone practice, his eyes trained on Andrew. He remembered Aaron’s words as he focused on the black armbands to tell which one was him. That was another question brewing inside Neil, although perhaps less important than the others. Still, the most important question running through his mind was what the  _ hell _ did Nicky mean by Andrew calling dibs? 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if any of the characters seem really ooc or i forget things it is because i have not read these books all the way through since ahem sophomore year and that was two years ago but!! i ordered them today so imma reread them soon :)


	3. In The Dark

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Week one concludes with a return to bad habits and a little more to Andrew than initially meets the eye.

Neil was as stubborn as he was clever, so he would never admit that having Andrew around honestly wasn’t that bad. Currently, Neil was barricaded in the apartment while the short blond sat by the door with his signature stoic expression. The most haunting thing was knowing how starkly sober the man was after years upon years of court-ordered mania. His memory was fuzzy, but he definitely remembered the chilling smile that had been trademark underneath his goalie gear in his early years with the Foxes. Wymack had always been vague on the details of why Andrew had to sober up months before the court-ordered length, but Neil didn’t ask too many questions. 

“Are you just going to stand there all night?” Neil asked in between spoonfuls of ice cream and Julia Stiles dialogue. Yes, he was watching  _ 10 Things I Hate About You,  _ but Neil was sort of a sucker for happy endings. After everything he had dealt with in his couple of decades, he deserved to have some faith. He also loved Julia Stiles, sue him. “I’m sure there’s another pint in the freezer.” 

“I’m good,” was all Andrew said, his voice a cool monotone as he stared straight ahead. 

“All right, then, I’ll just break out the whiskey by myself,” the auburn-haired man said with a teasing shrug as he moved to get up from his comfortable position on the couch and make his way to the liquor cabinet. Andrew, however, beat him to it, placing himself in between the cabinet door and Neil’s hand. His hand stopped just a breath away from Andrew’s chest and he retracted it quickly as he crossed his arms in disapproval. “Dude, what the hell? I’m twenty-five, Wymack’s been letting me bust this cabinet open since I was 18.” 

There was something daunting in the way their eyes met and it was then that Neil remembered the kinds of players Wymack made a career on recruiting. This man in front of him was not one to be messed with. He watched as he stepped back, Andrew’s shoulders visibly releasing their tension; the movement startled Neil as he had hardly realized the man was tense in the first place. 

“I know, I was one of the kids stealing from it,” Andrew mused, but there was still a daring calmness in his voice. That was the most words Neil had gotten from him in a row this whole time and this was the end of week one. Something about the man’s expression told Neil he was not going to get much more of a personal anecdote from him so he stepped back, still waiting for an explanation. Andrew noticed this and elaborated, “Coach said not to let you drink.” 

“God, I hate that man.” He didn’t really, Wymack was the closest thing Neil had to a father since his real one was a piece of shit that got himself six feet under alongside his mother. He knew in the pit of his heart that Wymack knew what was best for him, he just didn’t like the process. 

Wordlessly, Neil huffed and walked silently into the large kitchen and opened the freezer. There were two pints of ice cream, one cookies and cream and one was double chocolate chip. Neil grabbed the chocolate one and another spoon before walking back into the living room where Andrew had settled by the door once again. Without a word, Neil raised an eyebrow and offered the blond the ice cream.

“Here,” he assured, “I’m not really a fan of chocolate.” 

Andrew furrowed his brow. He went to take the ice cream, but something halted him. Neil looked at him expectantly, making it clear he wasn’t going to budge until he took the treat. 

“Listen, I don’t know why Wymack left this job up to you, but you have to put up with me for God knows how long, we might as well like each other.” Neil never went out of his way to bond with people, he was a runner both metaphorically and literally. Something told him Andrew was the same way which, strangely, intrigued Neil. Something tugged at him that there was so much more than meets the eye with this dangerously stoic man in front of him. So, he stood there with the ice cream. It may have been minutes, but it stretched into hours with the way their eyes locked together. Andrew’s look was enough to end a chill down his spine, but he stood his ground. Finally, the man across from him sighed and accepted the offering, popping open the lid. 

“I hate you already,” was all Andrew said as he took the first bite and Neil retreated to the couch. 

The most Neil could offer was a quirk of a smile as he shot back, “Aw, I’m touched, really.” 

It was then the door opened and both men tensed up. However, the threat was relinquished when they realized it was only Kevin who had opened the door. His gaze darted between the two men and then the cartons of ice cream. 

In French, he spoke to Neil, “What are you two doing?” 

“Babysitting,” Neil answered in English, “Now hush, she’s about to start reading the poem.” 

Kevin, however, looked dismayed as he said, “Oh, Christ, this is still going on? All right, then, let’s get down to the court.” 

“Ew, no,” Neil argued, “Why the hell would I go to the court with you guys? At this hour?”

“We do this every night. You don’t remember?” 

“ _ Oh _ , I remember, asshole, you nearly killed me for five years.” 

“And you could have made court.” 

“Too bad I choked, I know, I’ve heard this one before. You already made court, you’re seriously still out there every night? No wonder you look a little worse for wear.” 

Kevin looked more annoyed than angry as he tended to be whenever exy came up with Nei. However, right now, a familiar expression overcame his face and Neil sighed. This one he recognized well: complete and utter disappointment. Kevin had trained him for court and Neil could never quite reach it. Well, more like he chose not to, but that choice had torn a rift in Kevin that was never quite mended. Granted, it had only been about two years since graduation when Neil made the decision to quit exy. It was still a sore spot for both of them and rightfully so. 

Seeing that expression, Neil knew he had to cave, “Fine, but if you try to shove a racquet at me I’ll break your hand again right along the scars.” 

Kevin knew the threat wasn’t serious, but there was also something in his eyes that told Neil that he wasn’t going to argue. Andrew kept the ice cream with him as the three left the apartment, which Neil was quick to notice. He would have smiled if not for the tense air he and Kevin had created. 

The man was beginning to have flashbacks to college as he and Andrew sat in the stands while Kevin worked himself to the bone. The blond was sitting about five feet away from him as Neil noticed he pulled out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. It had been a long time since Neil had smoked, as he never really smoked for the feel of it but the smell. However, as they sat in the dim-lit stadium, the sound of exy balls rebounding off of plexiglass walls, Andrew offered one. In the darkness, Neil accepted and lit it. Just like that, the smell of smoke reminded him of a time far different than the one he stood in now. It felt almost like coming home, but not home. This was his home now, but he was returning to something. Maybe it was nothing more than a bad habit, but an image flashed of his mother. In the night, he smiled. Andrew hadn’t noticed and they continued the night in silence.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i just reread the entire trilogy and also binge read Red White & Royal Blue so now im so utterly inspired I just want these two big dumb idiots to fall in love so i can write about it already


	4. Just in Case

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Neil does what he does best.

Call Neil crazy, but he might actually be starting to like Andrew’s company. The two sat in a small cafe on a Saturday morning while Neil worked. Since Wymack was effectively forcing him to be sober, he might as well get back to what Sober Neil loved before the alcoholism took over: writing. Going through what he did, he had a lot of ideas for novels he could have implemented his own experience into. His own therapist said this was a healthy coping mechanism, but the drinking soon ruined all motivation Neil had. Andrew didn’t ask him what he was writing, he simply sat across from him reading a book. 

The two had been silent for probably hours at this point, but Neil huffed and sat back in his chair, running restless fingers through his rustled locks. The movement alerted the blond as he looked up at Neil with a raised eyebrow. Neil simply shrugged in response. 

Surprising even himself, Neil opted to break the silence, “Do you get tired of hanging around me? I mean, I don’t know Wymack is making you stick around so much, it’s been like two weeks since I got myself into any sort of trouble.” 

Andrew showed little emotion in his face as he placed down his book and crossed his arms. “Coach wants to make sure your name is completely out of headlines. It’s hard to get good press for the team if you’re too busy getting arrested over and over again. Make sense?”

“Are you telling me I’m stuck with a babysitter until season’s over? You’re kidding.” 

“I don’t kid.” 

Neil groaned, neglecting to look over at the man across from him. Instead, he stared at the screen in front of him. However, that made him even more frustrated. 

“Not that I care, because I don’t,” Andrew prefaced with the same neutral expression he typically adorned, “Why are you so mad about what Wymack is doing?” 

The question surprised him and for a moment, his frustration diminished in favor of confusion. In a moment, he stuttered for an answer, “I’m his son and a whole-ass adult, but he doesn’t trust me to keep myself out of trouble. Going through what I have, being treated like a child is a little irritating.” 

“He cares about you,” Andrew said with a shrug, “He knows how hard you worked to get you to where you are now, he doesn’t want you throwing it away on a bottle. Also, the reason he asked me? Less to do with you than you think.” 

“You confuse me,” the auburn-haired man sighed, crossing his arms as he leaned back in his seat again. His eyes left the screen and landed on Andrew, but the blond wasn’t looking at him. Andrew’s eyes were instead trained on the white lines trailing across Neil’s forearms and fingers. Neil was forced to have his scars on full display as he wasn’t lucky enough to come across something like the black armbands Andrew was practically famous for. Feeling self-conscious all of a sudden, Neil shifted uncomfortably in his seat and Andrew’s eyes left his arms and instead met his confused gaze. 

Neil had a hard time believing Andrew’s words, so after a brief silence, he spoke again, “How do I know you’re not just saying that to make me feel better or something?”

“I don’t care about your feelings, first of all,” the blond explained, holding up his pointer finger before raising another one, “Second, there’s nothing I hate more than a liar. Except you, maybe.” 

“Aw, I’m touched,” Neil repeated a joke he often made any time Andrew proclaimed his hatred for him, which was fairly often. 

Sure, Neil may not be minding Andrew’s company as much, but God, did he need a moment alone. However, he knew if he requested such a thing, the only thing Andrew would do was cease conversation and go back to his book. Neil needed to be alone. So, he did what he did best. 

“I’m gonna go to the bathroom, watch my stuff,” Neil announced, which Andrew responded to by nodding and picking up his book just as he hoped. Walking into the bathroom, Neil thanked God it was a single stall and was able to lock it while he figured out how to get the window unlocked. He almost missed the rush of going from place to place the way he had at one point, but he didn’t miss the being chased and hunted down aspect of it. He couldn’t get the window open all the way, but it was enough for him to push his slim form through and land unceremoniously on the ground. He had about three minutes to get away before Andrew would get suspicious, so he took off running. 

Of course, he couldn’t _sprint_ down the sidewalk the way he would have liked, but as he was able to cut down an alleyway, he went as fast as he could. A figure appeared at the end of the alley way and Neil tried to stop in his tracks in order to run the opposite way or at least not run into whoever was there. As he got closer, it was most certainly Andrew, but before Neil could get a good look, he was having the wind knocked out of him. 

Next thing he knew, he was on the ground. It had been a long time since he had the shit beat out of him and he did _not_ miss that feeling. In between heavy binks, he was able to see Andrew with a lightweight racquet in his hand. 

“Where the _hell_ did you get that?” the man asked breathlessly as Andrew tossed down the racquet next to him and offered a hand. That ultimately surprised Neil as Andrew was famous for having issues with people touching him. At least, that much he knew mostly from Kevin. 

Andrew shrugged as Neil rejected his hand and tried to force himself into a sitting position despite the burning pain in his ribs. As he watched, the man explained, “Kevin told me to start keeping your racquet in the car for night practices. Just in case.”

Furrowing his brow, Neil looked down at the racquet next to him, wrapping his fingers around the object as he brought it up to look at it. It had been years since he picked up a racquet he didn’t even recognize it. _Just in case._ The thought was terrifying. Neil refused to step on the court again, no matter how many times Kevin asked. “ _You were supposed to be court.”_ Kevin was always telling him, but the words stung every time Neil was reminded of them. \

“Tell him he can shove it up his ass because I’m never playing again,” Neil bit back as he pulled himself to his feet and tossed the racquet back to Andrew. “Jesus Christ, that hurt. Did you ever think of asking nicely? Maybe saying please instead of kicking my ass?” 

“I despise that word,” was all Andrew offered as he motioned for Neil to follow him. As they passed the cafe window to get back to the car, Neil noticed all of their stuff had already been packed up and cleared from the table. 

Eyeing this carefully, he looked to face the back of Andrew’s head in front of him, suggesting, “You knew I was going to run, didn’t you?” 

“Of course, I did. I’m just surprised you lasted as long as you did before you tried,” Andrew shrugged, his voice hardly fluctuating as he spoke. Neil was getting tired of the monotone as he wondered if Andrew was able to show any emotion besides neutral or hatred. “I figured I’d give you a bit of a head start, didn’t get very far.” 

“Couldn’t figure out the window.” 

“Slower than you used to be.” 

“How would you know?” Neil questioned as he reluctantly slid into the passenger seat of Andrew’s sleek black maserati. Driving with Andrew felt like a death trap half the time, but on the way back to Neil’s apartment he was relatively calm. 

Andrew was silent for a few moments, a brief hesitation that did not go unnoticed by the passenger. When he did speak, his words were quietly surprising, “I used to watch you play. When you played with Kevin. You were good, the public outrage when you refused to go pro wasn’t surprising. Kevin groomed you for court, you spit in his face.” 

“I’m done talking about Exy.” 

“You are a very different person than you used to be, huh,” Andrew observed, his eyes unwavering from the road, “The foxes that played with you in school always say you never shut about Exy, that you were a junkie that lived to be on the court. Oh, how things change.” 

Neil sighed, a biting venom in his voice appeared when he spoke, “Yeah, trauma will do that to a person. Who I used to be is none of your goddamn business.” 

“Don’t have to talk to me about trauma,” was all Andrew said. 

Those words sat on repeat for the rest of the drive, but the silence that fell over the pair was too thick to slice. When they pulled into the parking garage for Neil’s building, Andrew opened the door, but didn’t get out of the car. Instead, he reached over past Neil and into the glovebox where he pulled out a box of cigarettes and a lighter. Without a word, he offered one to Neil. It had to have been years since Neil smoked a cigarette, but he took it without hesitation and accepted Andrew’s light as the two sat in silence. 

When their cigarettes were finished, Andrew tossed it and closed his door. He motioned to Neil’s door, but scoffed when he didn’t move, “You wanted alone time, I’m giving it to you. Get out of my car.” 

“Really?”

“I don’t kid, I don’t lie,” was all the explanation Andrew offered. 

Without so much as a goodbye, Neil accepted the offer and opened the door, getting out hesitantly as he grabbed his things. Not so much as one word passed between the two as Andrew drove away so quickly it seemed as though he was never there in the first place. The small gesture of good graces confused Neil endlessly and standing alone in the parking garage, he didn’t quite know what to do with himself. Instead of moving, he replayed Andrew’s words over in his head over and over again. _Just in case. Just in case. Just in case._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> making neil a writer is just me projecting and no one is allowed to call me out on it


	5. Old Habits

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Night practice except this time with more angst.

Neil hated Exy. Something about even just the thought of setting foot on the court sent a panic through him and he was tired of feeling like he had to run. Feeling his old stick between his hands was detrimental to his state of mind and even now as he accompanied Andrew and Kevin to the night practices Neil had once partaken in during his college years felt surreal. Staring at the court was one thing, to play on it was a whole other animal. He wished he understood why the fight or flight always kicked in.

“You’re staring,” Andrew spoke with a bemused tone, eyeing the way Neil had his eyes locked on the court. “Just play with him. Make his night. He misses you.”

“He lives with me,” Neil scoffed, forcing himself to turn away and instead look at the blond lounging on the stands. 

“He misses the exy junkie,” he corrected and his stare was tantalizing in a way Neil couldn’t understand. “From what I heard, that guy was pretty great.”

Neil looked at the man in surprise, “Wow, was that a compliment?”

“Yeah, for a dead guy,” Andrew said with a shrug, “I hate  _ you _ , though. Kevin’s holding out hope that the Exy junkie in you still exists, but a love for the sport can’t trample the kind of fear I see in your eyes when you look at that court. I saw it when you held your racquet, too. Might wanna talk to Bee about that.”

“I don’t need therapy.”

“You need something.” 

“A drink, maybe.” 

“Typical,” Andrew scoffed, his arms crossed. The disdain in his voice and face was more emotion than Neil had seen all day. They really did bring out the best in each other. “Junkie.” 

The man rolled his eyes, carding his fingers through his loose auburn hair. It was just long enough to keep his curls, but he needed to get it cut sooner rather than later. “I am  _ not _ a junkie, I simply like alcohol. Sue me.” 

“Junkie.”

“You’re impossible,” he scoffed, avoiding the man’s stare as he instead chose to look over at Kevin practicing drills on the court. Part of him did wish he could step onto that court again, but he took too much time squashing that feeling to allow himself to cave in now. Maybe it was all in his head, but he was sick of suffocating when he spent the first 19 years of his life gasping for air. His breathing became labored and he forced himself to toss his racquet onto the bench beside him. “I can’t do it.”

Andrew’s expression was indifferent -- as was his advice: “Then don’t.” 

“I don’t want to disappoint Kevin.”

“If he’s already disappointed in you quitting in the first place, you can’t make it worse by continuing to not play,” the blond suggested with a nonchalant shrug. Weirdly, he had a point. Neil hated that he was right -- he knew Kevin was already disappointed in him for quitting Exy after college. He also knew Kevin probably would never forgive him until he stepped foot on a court again. The problem was, Neil had no idea when that would ever be. 

Grimacing, Neil looked over at him, “I don’t like it when you’re right.” 

“Get used to it, Neil.”

“No undermining nicknames?” 

“Can’t call you a junkie if you can’t even step onto a court anymore, can I?” the man offered. Something about the way his name had stung when leaving Andrew’s tongue didn’t sit with him. It didn’t sound wrong, simply foreign. Usually the only time Andrew acknowledged he even  _ had _ a name was when he was using it to chastise him or something of the sort. Using it so casually felt nothing short of odd. 

Disdainfully, Neil retorted, “You call me a junkie for being an alcoholic.”

“Isn’t Wymack forcing you to get sober? Isn’t that the whole point of me being stuck with you? Come on, let's get on the same page,” the man explained -- Neil couldn’t tell if he was avoiding eye contact or if he was simply keeping an eye on Kevin’s practice. “I suppose we’re all addicted to something, maybe I’ll stick with junkie then since you  _ do  _ seem to have an affinity for attention since you seem to be… uncomfortable with your own name.” 

He wanted to shoot back that Neil wasn’t even his name, but at this rate it was. He had buried Nathaniel Wesninski a long time ago… along with Alex, Chris, or any other name he had on the run. Neil Josten was his name, even if it didn’t feel like who he was anymore. If this were five years ago he would have run by now -- distanced himself from his identity, but that wasn’t an option anymore. Life had closed in on him and now he was a human being, a real person. He couldn’t go back, but identity crisis aside, he wasn’t sure he ever wanted to run again. Neil could run away from Exy all he wanted, but running away from the people he now considered family wasn’t an option. 

“Hey, rabbit, stop looking like I’m gonna bare my teeth and prey on you, why do you look so scared all of the time?” Andrew snapped to get his attention, back to his normal rude self rather than being oddly insightful like he had most of the night. “Get out of your head, it looks like Kevin is starting to clean up.” 

“I like Junkie more than Rabbit,” he remarked with a bored tone, trying to act like he hadn’t been having an entire internal debate about his state of mind and the life he lived. He was just going through the motions like usual.

Andrew scoffed at this, “Of course, you do. Do you know those people that always seem to make a victim out of themselves? You are the literal direct opposite of that, it’s irritating.”

“I am not!” 

“Every time you look at that Exy court you look like you have just seen a ghost and you’re going to head for the hills, but you refuse to voice out loud your true feelings. You don’t hate Exy, you love it, you always will. I watched some of your tapes from your college days, you had the potential to make court and be legendary. You played… you played like you had nothing to lose. That doesn’t leave a person. Even though you’re paralyzed the moment you grab your racquet, you refuse to admit how truly afraid you are.” 

Neil was taken aback by this, not expecting such a startling blow from a normally indifferent and uncaring man. He knew Andrew was observant, he recognized many habits of Neil’s just from a few weeks of this weird babysitting thing Wymack has subjected them to, but this was a different level to that. 

“Don’t psychoanalyze me.”

“I don’t have to analyze shit, it’s written all over your face,” Andrew reasoned with a petty scoff, crossing his arms as they followed Kevin who was heading into the locker rooms. The clock was ticking past two in the morning and Neil was happy that Kevin finally had enough. He missed having a horrible sleep schedule on his own terms. 

“You don’t know shit about me, Andrew,” Neil bit back, trying to withhold anger from his tone, but his words still had a venomous tone. Andrew barely knew him, he had no right to say things like this. 

“Don’t I?” was all the man offered in response as he packed up their stuff. “Come on,  _ junkie _ , you don’t need to run from this. Just admit it.” 

Neil shrugged, “Nothing to admit.” 

“Yeah, whatever,” the man rolled his eyes as Kevin came out of the shower. His eyes darted between the two of them, squinting as though he were trying to figure out what they had just been talking about. 

Interrupting their conversation, Kevin noted, “Would have liked to see you out there, Neil.”

“Over my dead body,” he shot back, but the tone was more joking than he had been moments before. However, there was no happiness or actual humor behind it, but that was clear as day considering the look Andrew gave him. “Let’s just go home.”

_ Home. _ Neil paused every time he said the word -- even years after he was adopted by Wymack. Something Neil never thought he would have. The only person who noticed his inherent hesitation was Andrew but he uncharacteristically kept his mouth shut. He supposed Andrew would know better than anyone -- old habits die hard. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been MONTHS I'm sorry but I'm probably gonna re-read the books again so I'll get obsessed and update sporadically again. I hope all of you guys are staying safe out there and thank u for reading this still xx


	6. Stay

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Neil dreams, but it's never a good one. 
> 
> TW: Implied violence, depictions of blood in the first portion of the chapter

Neil dreamt. There was no practice tonight, at least not that Neil had been made aware of, so he was inclined to actually get a full night’s sleep. He found he slept better now that he was sober, but he would rather be cut into pieces than ever clue Andrew into that information. In his dream, he stood on a court, racquet in hand. Something was wrong though; a steady drip echoed throughout the Foxhole Court where Neil had once played. Looking down, his racquet gleamed red and sickly with blood -- his own. His arms had the same treatment, lacerations gracing his biceps and forearms with a sick beauty. Screaming was his first resort, but nothing made its way past his lips as he suffocated. So, his next resort was to let the racquet clatter to the ground. The lights to the stadium flooded on and he was no longer in the dark, but it confirmed that he was truly alone in an empty chasm of memory. That was the worst part -- the fact that his mind was more or less recreating actual events. Sure, the scars that scattered his torso were not given to him on this very court, but the two went hand in hand in Neil’s damaged mind. He associated Exy with running, looking behind his shoulder everywhere he went, waiting for the other shoe to drop. He never wanted to have to run again. 

When he awoke, his scream from his dream finally sounded, however, this time it rang through the apartment where he was alone. Well, he had been alone when he had fallen asleep -- but this time there was someone else there. As he screamed, his breathing became labored as he shot up. His feet met the floor as his knuckles turned white bracing the edge of the couch where he supposed he had fallen asleep. His eyesight was black around the edges, dotted with fear and the effect of just having woken up, but he could make out something in his peripheral vision -- blond hair. 

“What--” he spoke between heavy, strangled gasps, “What are you doing here?” 

“Not important,” came Andrew’s hoarse, sturdy tone as his hands lingered on Neil’s back, not touching him. “Just breathe. You’re awake.” 

Neil did his best to listen, but his mind was racing.  _ Why _ did he have to have a nightmare the one night he wasn’t forced to sit and watch Kevin practice Exy for hours upon a time before the run even rose. He really couldn’t have nice things to save his life. What confused him even more than the underlying meaning of his nightmare was the fact that Andrew was here. Neil was supposed to have the apartment to himself tonight with Wymack on an overnight trip with Abby and Kevin taking Thea out for their anniversary and he had explicitly been told not to wait up. He dreaded being alone, that was when he got the bad ideas he was so well known in the media for, but he had stayed in intending to save Allison the nightmare if he were to be left unhinged. Wymack had allowed Andrew and Neil to be less attached at the hip the more in control Neil’s drinking and mental stability had become, so the auburn-haired man had not expected to see him until the next time he planned on attending their practices. 

When he could breathe again, he resumed his questioning for the blond who was on his knees in front of the couch, making sure Neil was okay. “Okay, okay, I’m breathing. I’m fine. What are you doing here? You don’t have to hang around me as much anymore, you know that.”

“Kevin mentioned going out with Thea tonight and coach wasn’t at practice this morning -- Dan told us why since she ran practice,” Andrew explained without answering the question, but he had answered it in his own way and Neil understood. 

“You didn’t want me to be alone,” he voiced the underlying revelation from Andrew’s statement. It wasn’t a question. “Aw, Andrew, do you care about me?”

“I hate you and would kill you given the chance,” Andrew responded in a heartbeat as he stood up from the floor, now seeing that Neil was okay, and stalked off to the kitchen. As Neil followed him, he stated, “Truth for truth.” 

Neil shrugged, watching as the blond opened the freezer. “What do you want to know?” 

“What was your nightmare about?” he asked, which Neil had expected. It had been so long since Neil had a proper night terror that he had forgotten how shaky he was after the fact. He tried to keep his balance on the island counter without the other man noticing, but he had a feeling he was failing at hiding it. 

“My scars, but before they were scars. I bled to death on an Exy court,” Neil answered honestly, abiding by the rules of the game. It was never established, but when the word truth was uttered neither of them dares lie. Something peculiar about Andrew was his dedication to honesty when he wanted, but his innate inability to lie on the spot. For example, he was fantastic about lying to the press -- constantly spinning insane stories any time someone asked him something too personal. Sometimes it was clever, other times just outright outlandish. Neil recalled an interview in which Andrew was asked about his relationship with his twin brother (a rocky one, from what Neil gathered) and Andrew had callously claimed to have never met him before. It was obviously a lie, but the man never hesitated when he told one. Which reminded Neil of how little hesitation in Andrew’s voice there was whenever he claimed to hate him. 

Andrew’s only response was to nod and paw through the freezer, looking for a carton of ice cream Neil had begun to keep in there for when the man was over. He constantly pretended that he had forgotten to look at the flavor and accidentally buy some overly chocolatey mess, but he had a feeling Andrew knew what his real intentions were. The man was too observant for his own good -- a skill Neil knew from experience was picked up from making mistakes. If one thing goes overlooked, one can end up dead. Neil knew that one well. 

“Truth for truth implies you ask for one from me as well, you know,” Andrew scoffed, grabbing the carton and heading over to the silverware drawer in search of a spoon. It was impressive how much Andrew had acclimated to this apartment -- from an outsider’s perspective, it would almost seem like he lived here.

“I’m not sure I want to cash mine in right now,” Neil shrugged and that was that -- game on pause, lies were a free game now. Not that they made a habit of lying to each other. 

Andrew groaned, but his expression was still unchanged, “You’re infuriating. No questions for me? You always have stupid questions for me?” 

“I can’t think of anything worth using an honest truth from you,” was all Neil offered in explanation, his white-knuckled grip still attached to the counter as his mind was still struggling to focus on reality. Having Andrew present helped -- made him feel real. Human interaction had that effect on him, specifically with people who knew him as Neil Josten and nothing else. That was all Andrew knew him as and that helped. He would never admit Andrew helped him, of course not, they were both too proud. “It’s weird, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you outside of Wymack forcing you to be with me.”

“It was never forced,” Andrew muttered, so faint Neil wasn’t quite sure he heard it right. However, at that moment he would believe what he wanted to because he knew Andrew didn’t hate him. He didn’t think this was going to be a friendship -- Andrew didn’t come across as the type to have “friends,” but it could be something. “What? Stop looking at me like that.” 

“I’m not looking at you like anything.” 

“Yes, you are.” 

“What am I looking at you like then?” Neil teased, turning his back to grab a glass from the cupboard. When his hands were too shaky to grab it without fear of dropping it, Andrew was behind him in a flash with the ice cream carton abandoned on the counter as he grabbed the glass for him. 

“Can’t do anything,” Andrew shook his head as they avoided each other’s eyes. If Neil knew Andrew any better he would say that was the man’s way of making a joke, but he pretended not to notice as the blond poured him a glass of water without Neil having to ask. “No wonder you call me your babysitter. What’s next? You need me to tuck you in?” 

“You didn’t answer my question,” was Neil’s only response as both hands held onto the glass tightly so he could take a sip without fear of dropping him. 

Andrew rolled his eyes, a rare spout of emotion -- if you could even call it that. “You’re looking at me like the world stops and starts with me.”

“You are so dramatic,” was all Neil had to say to that, chuckling softly as he shook his head. “So self-involved, Andrew, tsk tsk.” 

“Just go the fuck to sleep so I can leave.” 

“Stay,” Neil meant for it to come out as a question -- well, he hadn’t really meant for it to come out at all, but the statement hung in the air between them in the silent night. Up until now, he had done very little to show that he was beginning to enjoy Andrew’s company and he had fully intended to keep it that way. Feverishly he tried to come up with an excuse for the demand. “Um, I don’t like being alone after night terrors.” 

“Now I owe you two truths.” His tone was annoyed, but still, he nodded. 

So, Andrew stayed the night. They didn’t talk about it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> two updates in the same month can you guys believe? This is what you guys get after I read andreil fanfiction all day instead of reading the series again like i meant to but you guys can thank @ephemeralsky on here because I've been binging their fics all day and I physically cannot stop


	7. Whiskey Burned Tongue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Neil relapses.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: alcoholism, brief mention of self harm

Neil couldn’t take sobriety anymore. He was tired of not being able to sleep, of his eyes darting to Wymack’s liquor cabinet more often than not, of the craving. The worst part was the craving, the utter yearning for it. That was how Neil found himself on his balcony in the brisk midwinter air, drinking himself to death for the first time in weeks. The path to sobriety was not without its pitfalls, apparently. The empty bottle slid from his hand and shattered on the stone floor, causing Neil to curse under his breath. Neil used to hate drinking more than anything; the idea of losing control made him sick to his stomach. He had held on for so long, he had been hiding and running for so long, a loose tongue burned with whiskey was too dangerous for him to risk. Now, he had nothing to hide, and really, he was using the whiskey to make his mind shut up. So much had happened, too much for a boy who hadn’t even met his thirties yet. 

“Neil?” a voice asked, cutting through the freezing air. Kevin stepped onto the balcony, closing the sliding glass door behind him, “What are you doing out here? Have… have you been drinking?”

“How did you do it?” was all Neil asked in response. He figured the answer to Kevin’s question would be obvious enough, he might as well cut out the middle man. 

The other man took a place next to him against the railing, careful to step over the shattered pieces of glass, “Do what?” 

“Stay sober.” The words hung in the air and Neil realized how funny their situation was. Once upon a time, it had been Kevin the drunk and Neil who was straight edge. Now, as the two brothers stared into the skyline, it was the other way around. Ironic, the redhead thought to himself with a sick, depressed smile on his face. 

He expected Kevin to yell at him, to call him pathetic for relapsing, but instead, he just sighed. “Once I realized that I wasn’t drinking to get drunk, I was drinking to forget, I started going to therapy instead of a bar. People don’t go through the abuse we went through and get out of it unscathed, Neil, and that’s okay. I’ve had a lot of nights like this, more than I think I’ve even admitted to myself. You just… you have to want to get better. I’m not saying therapy will do great things for you, I know how you are. I mean, you fought tooth and nail to avoid seeing Bee back when we were in school. But find something that lets you work through what you went through instead of avoiding it with a drink. I’m gonna grab a dustpan and clean this up for you.”

There were a lot of things Neil wanted to say to his brother at that moment, but instead, he went with the simplest, “Thank you.” 

Kevin stopped for a moment to place a hand on Neil’s shoulder. Years ago, he would have shied away from such a touch, but he supposed he had gotten better at some things. Not many, but some. “Is there anyone you need me to call that’s like… better at this than I am? I know me and you don’t do the… the feelings stuff often.”

“Yeah, we’re like really fucking bad at it,” Neil scoffed, “This is gonna sound stupid, but could you… could you call Andrew? He’s a bitch, but Wymack made him my designated sobriety buddy so… you know.” 

“You’re turning to _Andrew_ for emotional support?” Kevin asked with a raised eyebrow, “Maybe you really have lost it, Neil.”

“Fuck all the way off.” 

“Whatever, I’m gonna make you clean up the glass now,” the other man shook his head as he walked back into the apartment. Once he was gone, Neil sighed and sat down on the balcony, careful to avoid any large pieces of glass. He grabbed a small piece, picking it up and watching the moonlight reflect on it. He didn’t know how long he sat out there bathed in the light of the crescent moon and the city, but nothing in that moment felt real. That was his favorite part about drinking, the part he missed so much. Neil was tired of being real. Years ago, he had no name and was on the run -- no obligations, no spotlight. Now he was famous, but for what? For being a former exy star? Or for being a drunken embarrassment? 

“Jesus, you’re a mess,” the monotone voice Neil had grown used to cut through the silence. 

“You got here fast.” 

“How long have you been sitting like this?”

Neil shrugged, “I don’t know, do you?” 

Andrew looked at him skeptically, grabbing the piece of glass out of his hands. It was then Neil realized he had a dustpan and brush with him, likely given to him by Kevin on his way into the apartment. Without a word, the blond began to clean up the glass while Neil sat against the railing, watching. Kevin had called and Andrew came. Interesting. Maybe Neil was just drunk. 

“You’re the worst,” Andrew mused once he finished, sitting against the railing as he pulled a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket and lit one up.

“I can always count on you to make me feel better,” Neil attempted to joke, but the slur coming through in his speech made it less funny, sadder. The man cleared his throat and the two settled into a comfortable silence. “Am I fuck up?” 

Andrew shrugged, taking a drag and handing the cigarette over to Neil’s waiting hand, “I am the wrong person to ask that question. Are you shivering?” 

“No, I’m fine,” Neil shrugged, taking a drag and trying his best not to cough. He used to smoke in college, but not so much anymore. Despite his words, Neil was absolutely freezing his ass off, but he was a liar before he was anything else. Clearly, it showed because Andrew’s only response was to roll his eyes before taking off his black sweatshirt and throw it over to the other man. Taking off the sweatshirt revealed Andrew’s equally black t-shirt and two armbands adorning each arm. Neil scoffed and handed the cigarette back over before reluctantly pulling on the sweatshirt. It smelled like cigarette smoke, but it was better than the smell of whiskey that covered Neil so he would take it. “Whatever. Is it true those armbands are to tell you and Aaron apart?” 

Surprisingly, Andrew shook his head, “To the press, maybe.” 

“I’m using my truth,” the words stung the bitter air as Andrew froze before Neil even realized what he had said. For some reason, he just wanted a direct answer out of Andrew. 

Andrew obliged to the rules of their little game as he spoke, albeit he did seem to speak in riddles to Neil’s drunken mind, “You’re not the only one with scars, Josten.” 

“What do you know about my scars?” 

Andrew scoffed, “They litter your arms and face, I don’t even want to think about what’s underneath your t-shirt. You do not get out of things we go through unscathed, that applies to you, too.” 

“Why do I feel like that’s the second time in the last hour I’ve heard that?” Neil droned, reaching for the cigarette. Instead of Andrew giving him the already lit one, though, he held that one between his teeth while he reached into the packet once again and pulled out a new one. He handed off the item to Neil who placed it between his teeth. Andrew leaned in and lit it, his hands cupping the flame so it wouldn’t get lost in the wind. “Don’t tell Wymack. About the relapse.” 

The man only nodded, “I won’t. Any secret of yours will always be safe with me, I understand having things to hide.” 

“Will you ever tell me about any of it?” Neil asked, not sure why. He didn’t know why he wanted to learn more about Andrew Minyard; maybe it was the promise of someone like him. Someone who had felt pain so guttural they never learned how to come back from it. A promise of scars, secrets, and truths. 

Andrew took a long drag before he answered, his brown eyes meeting Neil’s blue ones in the dark of the night, “Maybe if you stopped using your truths on stupid shit. Ask the right questions, Neil, and I will give you answers.” 

“Why?” 

“Because… trust is something that has been chewed up and spit in my face more times than I can count. You are the first person in a very long time who has yet to violate the boundaries I set to protect myself from it happening again.”

“Can I use my other truth?” Andrew looked moderately annoyed, but Neil had a feeling that was just his face. When he didn’t respond, Neil spoke again, “My father gave me most of my scars, but who gave you yours?” 

The words hung in the air with a twinge of bitterness and regret, but once again, Andrew only spoke the truth. “I did.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi guys! If you follow me on [ my tumblr ](https://andrewjminyvrd.tumblr.com/) I'm looking for a beta reader for this story! if you're interested message me on there :)


	8. To Feel Alive

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Neil is once again a rabbit in a Foxhole Court

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW//Mentions of addiction, scars

As it turns out, getting sober after relapsing is about a hundred times harder than getting sober the first time. Neil had been sober once when he first was a freshman at Palmetto back when he was hiding. He refused to drink because loose lips on a runaway was a death sentence. Being sober reminded him far too much of those times. Neil hated the idea of looking over his shoulder at every turn, of keeping all of his belongings and livelihood on the back of his back, not being able to trust anybody. He trusted Andrew, as strange as that was. He wondered if that could be mutual. No, he drove Andrew up the wall. There was no way the man trusted him. 

“Staring,” Andrew commented, pulling Neil out of his thoughts as they sat in the locker rooms. It was a game night and although Neil didn’t play anymore, he was dragged to the games as per his deal with Wymack. He still thought the fact that he had a babysitter was ridiculous, but he didn’t mind hanging around Andrew. 

The only problem with tonight’s game that was weighing on everyone’s mind was that they only had one sub. After a particularly brutal game against the Chicago Bears, three of their players were left benched with injuries that would have them out for weeks. Not to mention they had already been down players this season after the Ravens poached two of their best strikers. Robin Cross was the only sub left. 

“Are you worried about tonight?” Neil asked out of the blue as players began to file out into the stadium. Now it was only Andrew, Neil, and a couple of stragglers.

Andrew’s expression was unchanged, “Don’t be stupid.” 

“That doesn’t really answer my question,” Neil mused as he stood, straightening out his clothing. As he stood, he realized they were alone now. “Pretty sure your team is waiting on you.”

“It was your team once, too.” 

“I only played in college.” 

“Yeah, but you’ve always been Wymack’s, even before it was official,” Andrew shrugged, grabbing his goalie helmet out of the locker before slamming it shut. Neil’s eyes raked down the man as he stood in his gear, making him look larger than life even though he was still only five feet tall. Andrew seemed to notice this as they went to leave the locker room. “You have a staring problem.” 

“Yeah, I’ll add it to the list of things you hate about me,” Neil half-joked as he followed him into the stadium. Immediately, the dull roar of the crowd became deafening as they stepped out. Neil remembered the way this sound used to pump through his veins and give him life. Now he wanted nothing more than to hide. It seemed old habits die hard and Neil was a runner at heart, that’s for damn sure. 

“You look terrified,” Andrew observed as they joined the team. Neil took his place with Wymack while Andrew blended into the huddle. 

“Okay, team, you guys know the stakes. Play like you mean it, but don’t play like you have a death wish. The second person to get out on an injury means we have to forfeit the game, do you understand?” Wymack explained with the ferocity of one of the most passionate coach’s Neil had ever seen. Even after all this time, it was still clear how much he loved the game and his team. 

“Coach!” a newer player Neil didn’t know the name of raised his hand, “How do you expect us to play a full game?” 

“Any player worth being on this team can handle it,” Kevin cut in with his usual game-day prickliness. He was always an asshole, but it was always worse on game days. Even though college was over and their lives weren’t on the line, Kevin still played like he had everything to lose. Every game they lost ate away at his soul and Neil always got to witness it firsthand. Watching Kevin lose was like watching a car crash, it was tragic but impossible to look away. 

Wymack sighed, “I would have said it nicer, but he has a point. I train you guys to keep your stamina up and we’ll have Robin coming in as much as she can to give any exhausted players a break, sound good?” 

Everyone nodded as a “Yes, Coach,” rippled throughout the huddle. There was a buzzer announcing they only had a minute left before they had to take the court. Wymack read out everyone’s positions and the strategy they would be going with for the game before they took their positions. Neil sat next to Robin and Wymack on the bench as he waited for the game to start. He still loved watching Exy, he always would. The moment he stepped foot on a court was when everything went wrong. The one time Wymack made him see a therapist, she had called it PTSD, but Neil never went back. He hated the whole concept of therapists. He didn’t need anyone to tell him what was wrong with him, he knew that just by looking in the mirror at the scar-riddles face, chest, and back. Anyone with scars like his was bound to have some trauma. 

After the first quarter, a player came out with an injury. This meant that when Robin went in, there was no more backup. Neil didn’t know the name of the player, he thought maybe it was Jack or Jake, something along those lines. He was the player that had spoken out about playing a full game earlier. Funny, how he had been so worried but he couldn’t even make it through the first half without fucking it up for himself. Neil refrained from commenting, but a bitter laugh teased his lips as he held it in. 

“Shit,” Wymack muttered as his eyes bore into the players left on the court. Andrew had just blocked a shot that was dangerously close to crossing the goal line, but Neil hadn’t doubted that he would be able to block it the moment he saw it coming. Neil couldn’t even begin to imagine how he and Andrew would have worked together if they played in college. It would have been amazing, he just knew it. Of course, he would never admit that because if Neil Josten was anything, he was prideful. Any admiration he had for Andrew’s playing would be kept to himself no matter how skillful the player was. 

A minute before half-time, Matt Boyd went down. He was a big guy, but someone bigger than him got him in the head with a racquet and he was on the floor, hardly moving. There was no way he was getting out of there without a concussion let alone getting up to play. 

“Fuck, fuck,” Wymack exclaimed as he called for a time-out. The buzzer sounded and the players rushed to Matt’s aid as a medic ran out to check his condition. As Matt was taken off the court on a stretcher, the players huddled around Wymack. “They knew we were down men and they played dirty. We have no choice but to forfeit, I’m sorry, guys, I really wanted this to work.” 

“Neil can play,” Andrew’s stern but loud voice cut through the huddle as he took his helmet off, his eyes boring into Neil’s. 

The man shook his head, “No fucking way, I’m not getting onto that court.” 

“Neil, you’re a striker and a damn good one at that,” Wymack commented, “It’s just one half and then never again.” 

Neil wasn’t looking at Wymack as he spoke. His eyes were dead set on Andrew’s unwavering expression. Looking into his eyes, he could tell the blond truly believed Neil could play. Neil was kidding himself if he thought he could stand on that court let alone play a half. He didn’t even have his old gear with him as if that mattered. 

“Coach,” a referee interrupted the conversation, “Do you have a sub for the second half or not?” 

Wymack looked expectantly at Neil, who’s only comment was, “I don’t even have my gear or racquet. Wymack, it’s been years.” 

“I always keep a bag with your gear here,” Kevin interrupted, “Just in case you ever join night practice. We don’t need you to win the game, we’ve got that down already considering we’re up six points and I doubt that margin is going down. We just need someone to fill out the team, can you do that?” 

Neil’s eyes didn’t leave Andrew’s as he knew what he would have to do even if it killed him, “Yes.” 

Wymack sighed with relief as he went to talk to the referee to clear it. After a moment, he turned and gave the team a thumbs up and Neil began to follow Kevin and Andrew to the locker room. His heart was beating faster than it had in a very long time, the blood pumping in his ears was louder than the crowd in the stands as he entered the locker room. In his locker, Kevin pulled out a bag and a racquet Neil recognized as his. He threw the bag at Neil who reluctantly began to change out. 

“Turn around,” Kevin instructed Andrew before Neil had to. As Neil pulled off his shirt, he kept an eye on Andrew to make sure he didn’t try and steal a glimpse of the scars that riddled his back and chest. It was bad enough he couldn’t hide the ones on his face, he wanted to keep these ones to himself as much as possible. 

Putting on the gear after so long, Neil was surprised it still fit. It wasn’t like he had gained or lost an incredible amount of weight, he was simply a different person from the last time he played. The way it slid on with ease was almost discomforting -- he felt like an imposter. When he was done, he reached for his racquet and let it sit heavy in his hands. He nodded and the three of them went to exit the locker room. Kevin went ahead of them, but Andrew stopped in front before Neil could exit into the stadium.

“Are you sure you can do this?” Andrew asked which was surprising considering he was the one who suggested this in the first place. 

Neil didn’t know if he could do this, but it was too late now. He wondered what would happen if he stepped foot on that court again. Part of him figured he would just collapse or blackout. He hoped for the latter so that way he didn’t have to remember it later. Still, he nodded and they continued into the stadium. With a concerned look from Wymack, they took their positions and seeing Neil on the court, the crowd went wild. Neil had gone from star player to the star of a very public breakdown and faced more scrutiny than any other former Exy player. Now, he stood on a court for the first time in years. 

The buzzer sounded, the game resumed. No one really knew what to do with Neil on the court except for those who played with him in college. Namely, Kevin. The two of them had become infamous in college for being the best dynamic duo since Kevin and Riko. Now, Riko was dead, but Kevin and Neil reigned superior once again. Andrew blocked a goal from the other team and tossed it to Kevin who did a backhanded toss to Neil as he ran by. Neil wanted to freeze, to go into cardiac arrest, and just let them forfeit the game, but something took over him. He had the ball in his racquet and as if on autopilot, he sprinted in a way he hadn’t in so long. Seconds before the buzzer signifying the end of the first half, the goal of the other team lit up red. 

They flooded off the court for half-time and Neil couldn’t even process what was happening. For just a moment, his mind flashed and he was back in his freshman year of college where he was a naive kid with the world on his shoulders and too many secrets to hide. 

“Neil, have you secretly been practicing without telling me?” Wymack asked as soon as they were settled. 

He shook his head, “Being on that court makes me wish I was dead. So no.” 

“Well, great work so far. Just one more half. We’re seven points up, don’t worry too much about scoring just don’t let that margin get smaller, got it?” Wymack instructed. Everyone nodded. “Okay, take five, get some water, I’ll work on strategy for the second half.” 

The huddle broke and everyone went to the bench and water bottles. Neil sat on the bench, feeling numb. He couldn’t believe he stood on that court and didn’t die. Maybe it was ridiculous, but he was sure he would have spontaneously combusted by now. He was here, he was alive.

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” Andrew’s voice interrupted his thoughts, searing through them like a hot knife as he unknowingly brought Neil back to the present. “Once a runaway, always a runaway, I suppose.” 

“Asshole,” Neil muttered, but there was no heart behind it. “I never thought I would play again.” 

“You’re a junkie and junkie’s always come back for the high,” the blond explained, “But you’re not bad for a rookie.”

Neil scoffed, a half-smile forming on his face, “Rookie. Been a long time since I’ve been one of those.” 

“Be careful, don’t be too good or Wymack will force you to sign with him,” Andrew said, but Neil couldn’t tell if he was teasing. “Just don’t suck in the second half.” 

The man shook his head, “No, no that won’t happen. If there’s anything I’m good at it’s Exy. Once… I used to play like I had nothing to lose. That feeling never goes away. It’s what kept me going. When I’m on the court, I feel like I’m that person again. The runaway.” 

“You’re a rabbit in a foxhole court,” Andrew mused, “Enough with the sob story, we have a game to play.” 

Neil nodded. The buzzer sounded and half-time was over just as soon as it had begun. He took his position for the second half, his blood pumping in his ears.  _ He was alive. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I haven't updated this since April I'm sorry but I've been binge reading Andrew/Neil fics and I just wanted to update this so here's a long ass update to make up for the fact that it's been a month and a half


	9. Figure Me Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Exy is easy. Coping with it is not.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW//brief depiction of panic attack, mentions of addiction

The second Neil stepped off of the Exy court, his throat seized up. He had all but blacked out while playing -- all he really knew was that they had won. He snapped back to reality and panic settled into its home in his bones. Everyone was celebrating around him, but the volume was muted as a stinging ring filled his ears. As he dropped his racquet he couldn’t breathe and he was able to feel his knees buckling beneath him. Right as he fell, someone’s arms found their way underneath his armpits, catching him before he hit the ground. Andrew dragged Neil into the tunnel leading into the locker rooms where no spectators or media would be able to see him, leaning him against the wall. Andrew yanked his touch back so quickly as if touching Neil had set him aflame.

“Sorry,” Andrew muttered as he sat down next to Neil, clearly waiting for him to calm down. 

The word managed to pull Neil somewhat into reality as he scrunched up his face, asking through heavy breaths, “What for?” 

“Touching you without permission,” Andrew shrugged, pulling a cigarette out of the bag with his discarded goalie gear. He didn’t light it yet, when Neil furrowed his brow, he explained, “I’m not going to light a cigarette with you having a panic attack next to me.” 

“It’s not a panic attack, I’m fine,” the man argued, but the ringing in his ears and his broken voice said differently. He could mask any pain he wanted with words, but anyone who knew him would know he was a liar before he was anything else. 

“Bullshit,” Andrew scoffed. After celebrating, the team shuffled through the hallway, shooting curious glances at the pair on the floor but Andrew’s defensive glare caused them to keep their mouths shut as they passed by. A moment passed, then another. The ringing ceased. 

Neil breathed deeply almost as if to check if he remembered how before turning to Andrew and saying, “You don’t have to apologize.”

The blond shrugged, “I know what it’s like to not want to be touched and have someone do it anyway, so understand where I come from when I apologize. It may seem trivial to you, but we are two wildly different people.” 

“That we are,” Neil muttered as he leaned his head against the wall, thankful that even with the crowd around them outside, it still seems quieter than it was before. “I can breathe now if you wanna light up. Even though smoking inside is kind of a dick move.”

“And I’m a dick, your point?” Andrew asked with teasing disbelief gracing his features as he pulled out his lighter, placing the cigarette between his teeth. He held out the pack to Neil, offering, but he only shook his head as he still attempted to catch his breath. 

“How did you know?” Neil asked after a moment of silence. When Andrew looked at him quizzically, he explained, “That I was having a panic attack.” 

The man looked away for a moment, answering so quiet Neil wasn’t sure he heard him right, “It’s easy to tell when I’m so well-versed in having them myself.”

“Oh,” was all Neil managed to say. Andrew said nothing more, simply he pushed himself up off of the wall they were leaning against and stood, offering a hand out to Neil to help him up. Neil looked at it for a moment, not wanting to accept the help. All these years and he still had a problem with looking to others even for something as simple as an outward hand. Even then, he couldn’t trust himself to stand on his own just yet. Reluctantly, he grabbed Andrew’s hand and let himself be pulled up. He managed to stabilize himself as it was clear Andrew refused to lay his hand anywhere else than the one he had offered silently. Neil would be lying if he said he wasn’t curious about what had caused those boundary issues in the first place -- but that was not something for him to ask, that was something for Andrew to tell. 

“That’s all you have to say?” Andrew asked, his monotonous tone sounding almost surprised, but the man showing emotion in his voice was rare. “Most people prod.”

Neil shrugged as they walked towards the locker room where the team was dwindling out to carry on with their nights and celebrate. Unfortunately, Neil couldn’t celebrate with them since he knew “celebrating” often meant getting blackout drunk which was not something Neil felt he could be around. Not yet, not so soon after breaking. 

“I’m not most people,” Neil responded finally after thinking his words over, “Besides, I took my turn last.” 

“That you did,” the other man commented but said nothing further as they went to change out. Neil waited until it was just Andrew who wasn’t facing him and Kevin who was clearly waiting to speak with Neil for him to remove his shirt and change into his clean one from earlier. When he was done, Kevin came over to him while Andrew waited for the pair in the doorway. 

“What happened when you stepped off the court? Are you okay?” Kevin asked, a brother’s concern lacing his eyes and tone as he spoke. 

Neil chuckled, “You should know that asking me if I’m okay is a moot point by now, Kevin.”

“You didn’t answer my first question.” 

“I know,” he mused before packing up his things and hiking it over his shoulder. It was a strangely familiar feeling to be leaving the locker room and he’ll admit he was unsettled by it. College -- his freshman year especially -- was not something he wanted to remember, but every time he was in this room or the stadium he got flashbacks reminding him of the worst time in his life. That was why he always turned to alcohol or other trouble, just to keep the flashbacks and nightmares at bay. Now, he had no choice but to deal with him. As he walked away from Kevin with Andrew by his side, he could almost feel the walls of the hallway closing in on him. He couldn’t breathe again until they stepped into the night air of the parking lot. They had gone out the back way, Neil had realized, so they were alone without any Exy fans clawing at their throats. 

Neil groaned, “I don’t wanna go home. Wymack is just gonna coddle me and tell me how proud he is.” 

“Oh no, a father who loves you,” Andrew mocked with a deadpan, but when Neil flipped him off he offered a completely false smile. Unlocking the Maserati, he motioned for Neil to get into the passenger side, “Come on, let’s drive.” 

He figured his chances of Andrew actually murdering him were slim, so he opened the passenger door and slid into the car. They had driven together before, but always with a destination in mind. This time, Andrew only whipped out of the parking lot and sped down the highway with quiet music coming from the speaker while the car stayed silent. 

“I never thought I would step foot on an Exy court again,” Neil broke the comfortable silence, letting the thought slip past his lips with ease he didn’t quite share with anybody else. “It was… harder on me than I thought it would be. Needless to say.” 

“You’re a junkie,” was Andrew’s initial response, “The first high always hits harder after being sober.” 

“It’s not drugs, it’s PTSD,” Neil scoffed, “Any shitty therapist will tell you that much. There’s no rehab for this shit.” 

“There is, it’s called therapy,” the other suggested with a coy tick in his voice, “Wymack tells me you refuse all therapy and medication. He warned me about that when he first told me to keep an eye on you. He also told me I’d probably want you dead half -- if not most -- of the time I was around you.”

Neil laughed, but there was little humor behind it, “Was he right?”

“Sure was,” he answered without an ounce of hesitation, “but I am an expert in self-control. So, you live and breathe, unfortunately. Also, stop telling me things before I owe you too many truths. I owe you two now.” 

“No, one.” Andrew raised his eyebrow as if to ask, so Neil clarified. “I asked how you knew I was having a panic attack. Also, I owe you one. Not the other way around. You told me about your scars. I never paid you back for that one.”

Andrew scoffed, “Semantics.” 

“Aren’t you supposed to be the one with a good memory?” 

“You should’ve taken the freebie,” was all he said in response to that as he kept his eyes on the road. It seemed almost deliberate in the way he seemed to purposefully avoid looking at Neil. A silence passed over them but not for a minute too long as Andrew broke it, “Why didn’t you want to go home? Real answer.” 

Neil figured this was him taking the truth he was owed, so he answered as honestly as he could, “I wanted to spend time with you.” 

“Ew.” 

“ _ And _ , I wasn’t done, sometimes, when it comes to Exy, at least, Kevin and Wymack can be… smothering. Don’t get me wrong, I like having people that care about me and I know not everyone should be so lucky, but I’m not used to it. I’m not sure I ever will be.” 

“What  _ happened _ to you?” Andrew asked, but it came across in a way that seemed to be accidental as immediately the man’s expression locked up and he said, “Don’t answer that. It’s not my turn.” 

Neil stayed silent for a moment, but it didn’t last long before he said, “For someone who claims to want me dead you sure do seem to care. In your weird way.” 

“If you accuse me of caring about your pathetic ass again I will crash this car and take us both down,” Andrew spoke with a tone so deadpan Neil honestly wasn’t sure if he was kidding or not. He decided he didn’t want to take his chances as they finally pulled into the parking lot of Neil’s building. “Get out.” 

Neil followed instructions, expecting Andrew to take off, but instead, he opened his door as well and got out. He leaned against the closed door of the Maserati for a moment, lighting a cigarette. Neil watched with a certain fascination as the smoke reached for the ceiling of the parking garage. Silently, he walked over to the other side of the car and held out his hand. Andrew handed him the cigarette before pulling out another one and lighting it for himself. Neil had his own pack on him, usually, but stealing from Andrew was much more enticing for some odd reason. Maybe it was the idea of something passing Andrew’s lips to his, but he tried to avoid dwelling on Andrew’s lips. He hardly inhaled as his cigarette burned down to the filter, letting the smell of the smoke fill his lungs as he tossed the butt to the ground and crushed it under his shoe. 

“What a waste of my cigarette,” Andrew muttered, but he didn’t sound too hurt by it. “You’re impossible.” 

“Stop trying to figure me out then,” Neil shrugged. 

“That’s my line,” the man returned which caused Neil to scoff. 

“We can be equally emotionally closed off.” 

“In your dreams,” Andrew said and if Neil didn’t know any better, he would have thought he was making a joke. However, Andrew Minyard didn’t joke. Not in the traditional sense, at least. 

“You know, you don’t have to stay,” Neil finally said after a moment of silence had passed over the pair as Andrew finished his cigarette. “I am a grown man. I haven’t gotten arrested in over a month, so I think that proves it.” 

Andrew let out a sound that was almost a laugh before his face sobered up and he asked, “Do you want me to stay?”

Neil wasn’t sure if he had an answer to that question. He wondered when their dynamic had shifted from babysitter to friend (even though Andrew would probably rather die than call Neil his friend), but he wasn’t sure he minded the change all that much. He liked Andrew’s company, surprisingly enough. According to most, he was hard to deal with and too much to be around, but to Neil, interaction was easy. Maybe he was just fucked up enough that they sat rocking in the same boat. 

“Yes,” Neil finally said, letting himself speak the truth but not allowing himself to expand on it. He knew with Andrew, a single word would be enough. 

And it was. The man nodded, “Then I’ll stay.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> me updating twice in three days? who is she? watch, after this chapter I'll disappear for another two months


	10. Friends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The press pretty much have Neil locked up in the apartment to avoid getting bombarded by paparazzi. Andrew keeps him company.

Following the Exy game, Neil had automatically become the top story on any and every sports publication that followed Exy in any form. It had been too long since Neil was a headline which meant it came crashing down about a hundred times harder than it normally would because everyone was itching to get the scoop on Exy’s favorite reject. This, of course, meant leaving home was incredibly hard considering paparazzi were staked out in his parking garage and god knows where else. It was strange to have the media covering him in a positive light. Normally it was always snide comments along the lines of “typical of a former fox,” and “no one can  _ really _ fix that charity case.” 

Positive or negative coverage meant he was pretty much on house arrest until everything calmed down which after about three days was starting to let up but not quite enough. It was driving Neil absolutely insane because when he couldn’t drink he would run with music blasting so loud he couldn’t think and now he couldn’t even do that. Instead, he was forced to run on a treadmill like some kind of heathen. 

That was where he was now, sweating his ass off with his headphones in blasting some girl rock that Dan swore was the best thing ever. He liked it, but he knew if he admitted that to her she would rub it in his face forever. 

In the middle of his workout, someone ripped out his headphones to get his attention. The only person who would ever do this, of course, was Andrew Minyard. The short blond stood there with a plastic bag in his hand and an expectant expression. 

“I can’t believe you actually got it,” Neil exclaimed with a small laugh as he slowed down and caught his breath, grabbing for his water bottle, “Who knew being on house arrest made you my little bitch.”

“Say that again and I will punch you in the throat,” Andrew spoke with a deadpan expression as he walked out of the home gym and into the living room. Neil followed him wordlessly as always. “I can’t believe you still found a way to go running, I hate you.”

“No, you don’t because you just brought me my groceries out of the kindness of your heart,” Neil commented as he took the bag from the blond and placed it on the kitchen counter, digging through its contents to pull out a pack of cigarettes and his favorite premade salad. 

“Fucking rabbit food,” Andrew scoffed, “I’m ordering Chinese takeout. Also, I used the team card for this shit, so fuck that kindness of my heart. No such thing.” 

Neil shrugged as he began to prepare his lunch, “I don’t know, could have fooled me.” 

“I’m gonna kill myself and it’s going to be your fault,” Andrew sighed, hopping up to sit on the counter as he called the Chinese food place with a to-go menu in his hand. Neil laughed at him, watching him with careful eyes while he ate his salad which  _ yes _ was total rabbit food, but it was good rabbit food and there’s no shame in that. Something about interaction with Andrew had become almost too easy along the way of this little thing. It was almost like having a sponsor except instead of calling him when he wanted to get drunk he just hung out with Andrew as friends would. Of course, that didn’t stop the urges when he couldn’t sleep, but he would just go out on the balcony and smoke. One addiction for another, he supposes. Still, maybe Wymack had been right about Andrew. That it would help. Even though Wymack had set it up under the guise of Neil needed to have someone watch him, he wondered if his adoptive father just wanted Neil to have someone around that was as fucked up as him. Sure, he had Kevin, but Kevin turned all that pain and trauma into a career and channeled it into his work. Neil had nothing. Well, he had writing, but that had not been going well lately. So, now he had Andrew. He didn’t mind. 

Andrew finished ordering, hanging up the phone before squinting his eyes at Neil, “You have a staring problem.” 

“You say that a lot,” Neil noted, “I’m just thinking about things. That’s all.”

“I didn’t know you knew how to do that.” 

“Asshole.”

Andrew’s only response was to shrug. After a moment, he took the pack of cigarettes that had been tossed aside before hopping off the counter and onto the balcony. Neil wondered if he wanted him to follow, but a quick glance from the man told him that he was supposed to. He abandoned his salad before heading out onto the balcony. He went to reach for a cigarette from the pack, but Andrew shook his head. Instead, he plucked the lit cigarette from his lips and handed it to Neil. It was an odd gesture, but he took a drag before handing it back to Andrew once he noticed he hadn’t gotten one out for himself. Neil wondered what the paparazzi would think if they got a shot of this.  _ “Infamous Goalkeeper and Idiot Playboy share cigarette” _ would be the headline or some other stupid shit like that. He wasn’t too worried about it. 

“I don’t remember who’s turn it is,” Neil spoke out of the blue, nothing on the balcony but the sounds of the city below them. Well, it was a college town so not much of a city, but still. 

“Mine,” Andrew spoke with little hesitation. “I asked you last night if you wanted me to stay. You told the truth. So, my turn to give you one.” 

“You counted that?” Neil asked with raised eyebrows as he plucked the cigarette from Andrew’s lips for another drag. 

He nodded, “I count everything. Why do you ask? Got a question for me?” 

“Kind of,” Neil shrugged, not knowing how to approach the question gnawing away at his mind. “What is this?” 

“This is nothing,” again with the lack of hesitation and his smooth, stern tone. Emotion from Andrew was always fleeting if it was even there in the first place, so Neil had learned not to take it personally. As Andrew pulled the cigarette back with his finger ever so brushing against Neil’s lips to take another drag, Neil wondered how much of the truth Andrew was really telling. Maybe he read too much into small things, but being on the run and looking out for yourself for so long had that effect on someone. “You are nothing.” 

Neil scoffed, “Yeah, I’m used to hearing that one. Not even friends?” 

“I don’t have friends.” 

“You have your brother. And your cousin.” 

“That’s family, that’s different,” Andrew scoffed, an eye roll accompanying the statement, “Grasping at straws as always, Josten.”

Neil could have laughed, but instead, a breathy chuckle fell past his lips with comical ease, “You’re an asshole.” 

Andrew took the cigarette butt and flicked it off of the balcony before pulling out another in the same fluid motion, saying, “And you’re the only one who says that like it’s a good thing.” 

“It is,” the redhead said with a shrug as he leaned on the railing, looking down. “I don’t think someone nice would have put up with me for this long. I tend to rub people the wrong way. I’m sure you realized that by now.” 

“You talk too much,” the shorter man commented, but the way he said it didn’t make it sound like he was telling Neil to shut up. More like he was just making an observation. “Also, you keep wasting your truths on stupid things.” 

Neil shrugged, “Maybe I like knowing stupid things about you.” 

“Gross,” was all he said before he took the cigarette from his own lips and handed it over to Neil without waiting for him to ask or take it himself. Neil accepted it with ease. “Do you wish you had stayed a runaway? Never signed with the foxes in the first place and just hid out on the run?” 

“Sometimes,” Neil answered as honestly as possible, his eyes avoiding Andrew’s like the plague, “I like having somewhere to belong. After my mom died, I was lost. I had never been on the run on my own, I never had anyone to go back to. Until Neil became real. That was when I realized I had a family. I can run away all I want, but I’ll always have here. So. Sometimes.” 

Andrew was silent for a moment, both of them pointedly avoiding eye contact as they did best. A moment turned into two and then eventually, Neil wasn’t sure how long had passed, but the sound of the doorbell ringing brought them out of their silence. Andrew threw yet another cigarette butt off the balcony before heading inside to get his lunch. Neil wondered what his truth would mean to Andrew. He also wondered why Andrew was thinking of such a thing at all. Did he think Neil regretted where his life had taken him? Neil wondered if he did. Regret it, that is. There wasn’t much room in his life for regret. Instead, he remembered. He remembered his mother burning by the beach, the first time he held an Exy racquet as a scared runaway at 18 years old when he realized he had found a family in the foxes. His birth father’s death and the subsequent birth of Neil Josten becoming real. Those were things he held onto. So, no, he didn’t think he did regret it. 

The blond had gone to work settling down on the couch with his lunch in one hand, looking at Neil expectantly, eyeing the empty spot next to him on the couch. Neil chuckled to himself, grabbing what was left of his meal from the kitchen before settling down while Andrew pulled up Netflix. Andrew put on some cartoon, causing the redhead to furrow his brow. 

“What’s  _ Avatar?” _ Neil asked as he read the title. 

“You’re lucky I’m not Nicky or else your ears would be bleeding from him yelling at you right now,” Andrew spoke with a deadpan, not answering the question as he silently went back to the pilot episode. “Here, just watch.” 

So, that was their afternoon. No more truths, just lunch and cartoons. If every day was like this, maybe Neil wouldn’t mind if the press never went away. However, saying that out loud near Andrew would be nothing short of a death sentence, so he was going to keep that to himself. To Andrew, they were nothing. To Neil, they were friends. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just graduated high school and entered into a depressive episode which means I'm hyperfixating on writing this fic and I don't know why so here's another update because it's the only thing I'm capable of writing right now


	11. Interesting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A streetlight. A cigarette. A truth.

Night practice had become a staple in Neil’s life for the first time in years. Except this time, Kevin made the mistake of beginning to expect things from him again. He got Neil to play once in a time crunch, but Neil didn’t know if he could bring himself to do it again. 

“Please? For me?” Kevin whined as he stood on the court, staring Neil down as he sat on the bleachers. Beside him, Andrew lit a cigarette.

“Why would I do anything for your bitchass?” Neil responded, trying to keep his tone light to hide the fact that he was utterly terrified. 

“Dude,” Kevin began with a sigh, but after a moment he shook his head and returned to his practice -- accepting that Neil wasn’t going to be joining in this time. Neil didn’t know if he was going to play Exy ever again, but he wasn’t too worried about it. What he was worried about was how much he had liked being on the court again. For the split second, before everything had gone black, his heart was pumping but not with fear. With the same excitement he had when he was just a nineteen-year-old on the run with nothing to lose. That was the part that terrified him the most.

“You’re staring at me,” Andrew muttered and he hadn’t even realized it but he was. The blond seemed to call him out whenever he did it which forced Neil to recognize how much he liked when his gaze rested on Andrew. “You have a serious problem, junkie.” 

Neil sighed, “Yeah, I’ll add it to the list. Thanks.”

“Happy to help,” was all Andrew said in response as he lit up a cigarette, “What are you thinking about?” 

The man squinted at him, wondering what ulterior motive he had for asking Neil a genuinely normal question. After a moment, he decided to answer honestly, “Exy.”

Andrew rolled his eyes, “Of course you are. Do you need to get out of here?” 

Now, Neil wasn’t particularly bothered by the idea of watching Kevin play Exy. He had watched these night practices fairly often for the last few weeks that he didn’t mind it as much as long as the man didn’t force him on the court. Still, the sound of Kevin rebounding the ball off of the plexiglass walls of the court might be slowly driving Neil insane, and the chance to get some silence sounded nice. Even if it was with Andrew. Scratch that -- especially if it was with Andrew. 

He nodded, his eyes meeting Andrew’s for a flicker of a moment, “Yes.” 

“Kevin, we’re going for a smoke!” Andrew yelled at the man on the court, not bothering to wait for a response as they began to head towards the exit with Kevin yelling back something about lung cancer at their backs. Neil didn’t care about that, though, as he stepped into the cool air, letting it seep into his bones. Breathing in deeply, he embraced the chill that traveled down his spine as the night wrapped around him in an aching hug. 

“I have a question. A truth,” Andrew spoke the moment the door to the stadium closed behind them. 

“It’s not your turn,” Neil spoke, but it wasn’t an argument -- just an observation. He knew it wasn’t like Andrew had forgotten, he couldn’t forget. 

Andrew’s only response to this was, “Does that bother you?”

“No. What’s your question?” Neil asked, his eyes adjusting to the dark around them as they stood underneath a street light. Without a word, Andrew lit another cigarette and handed the one from his lips over to Neil. It seemed a strange routine, but to them, it was simply normal. He wondered if it felt as intimate to Andrew as it did to Neil. He chose not to dwell on it, those weren’t things he thought about too often since he had gotten so used to not being able to. Some of the habits from his runaway days were harder to break than others. 

“Do you date?” Andrew asked which threw Neil for a loop. Out of all the things Andrew had asked him, this was the one that had come the furthest out of the left field. 

Following his first instinct, Neil shook his head. Then, he hesitated and decided to explain, “It’s complicated. I kissed a couple of girls when I was younger, but my mom always got angry with me when she found out, always saying it was a distraction. It was already so ingrained in my mind and by the time she was dead, I had bigger priorities than dating. I almost hooked up with Allison once, but that’s it. No one really caught my eye. Well, there was this one guy my junior year, but he was a film major so I couldn’t really take it anymore. All he talked about was some dude named Quentin Tarantino.”

“Tarantino sucks, don’t bother with it,” Andrew shrugged, tossing his cigarette butt to the ground. “So, you don’t date.”

“Not recently, no,” Neil decided his final answer, “But I’m not like… afraid of it anymore. Anyway, it’s my turn now. Why do you care whether or not I date?”

“I don’t,” Andrew answered with enough lack of hesitation for Neil to question his honesty. It was unlike the man to lie, so Neil wondered why this one came so easily. Somehow, it was obvious to him that the man was being at least slightly untruthful. Maybe Neil picked up on it in the slightly rushed tone or the way the man had inadvertently whipped his head around so Neil could no longer see his eyes. Instead, Andrew was focusing on the cigarette butt he had just dropped -- an excuse to keep his gaze away from Neil, it seemed. 

Neil decided to be testy as he called the man out, “Wasn’t the whole point of this game that we tell the truth?”

Andrew chuckled, “Yeah, I suppose it is.” 

“So, I’ll ask again. Why do you care whether or not I date?” 

“It’s not any reason that should matter to you,” Andrew answered and Neil was thankful that this one wasn’t an outright lie -- instead it merely danced around the truth. Neil wondered if he was reading too much into this, but part of him was rather entertained with the idea if Andrew being… shy? He was unsure if that was even the right word, but either way, he liked it. His heart was beating a little faster at the thought of Andrew caring about something like this, even if that was stupid to admit. He felt like he did back in high school -- forcing himself to look away from the pretty girls and boys that were nothing but a distraction, but he could never forget the way they made him feel. A crush -- he had once been told they were called. Regardless of any names or feelings, it made Neil feel young again, but the good kind of young. The young he felt when he first stepped onto Palmetto’s campus as a free man with his father six feet under; the kind of young he felt when he realized he didn’t have to run anymore. 

“You have a staring problem,” Andrew said for the second time that night.

Neil smiled coyly, “And you have a crush on me.” 

“Crushes are for horny teenagers,” was all the man said in response, “I actually hate you. Every inch of you.”

“Yeah, but you’d probably blow me if I asked,” Neil teased, but there was no malice or shaming behind it. He didn’t want to make Andrew feel bad -- and he knew the man would tell him if he was. 

Surprisingly, Andrew simply shrugged, “Yeah, probably.” 

What didn’t surprise him, though, was how much Neil didn’t mind. Neil had never been great at getting along with people, but he and Andrew got on like a flame in a dry summer. It was interesting. Certainly interesting. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is short, but I'm tired and I got my point across so here's a short chapter because I wanted to get something out and I needed to progress the actual plot of this fic which I keep FORGETTING about because I'm useless and gay anyway I wanted to include the "doesn't mean I wouldn't blow you" line but I see it in so many fics and it always seems just a little forced (honestly, I feel this way about most iconic lines people put into their fics idk why) so I put a little spin on it because I do love that line and it made little freshman me squeal when I read it for the first time so here. Sorry for the long note, I'm chatty tn I hope y'all enjoyed the chapter!


	12. Jealousy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Neil is celebrating. In more ways than one.

An invisible line had been crossed. No, not crossed. Tip-toed across with glasslike fragility. Neil wasn’t fragile, but with Andrew, he felt like he could be. Something about life was beginning to settle in for Neil and he had an inkling that it had a lot to do with his tiny half-assed bodyguard. He hadn’t had a drink in weeks and more importantly, he was writing for the first time in weeks. 

A phone call from Allison came through while he was sitting with his back against the railing of his balcony, enjoying the sounds of the city below him while he wrote. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and pressed it to his ear. The woman was speaking before he even had a chance to say hello -- which was very much typical of Allison.

“Dude! I sent your first chapter to the publisher and they loved it! Like, I’m not kidding, they want that book finished as soon as possible!” 

“Tell them it’s gonna be a while, I’m still on chapter five… ish,” Neil muttered as he looked at the scattered outline and notes he had splayed out on a notebook beside him. Regardless of his verbal response, he was ecstatic. His publisher had been about ready to give up on him, so hearing that they were giving this next book a shot filled him with warmth and joy. “That’s amazing, really, I’ll send these pages over to you once I finish up and we can deal with editing later. God, I can’t believe we’re doing this again.” 

“You deserve it, Neil,” Allison spoke, her voice surprisingly soft and genuine, “If anyone deserves this, it’s you.” 

Neil scoffed at this, “All I did was stop picking the lock on Wymack’s liquor cabinet.” 

“God, you need to move out,” the woman scoffed, “Once this book makes you richer than you already are, we’re finding you a new place.” 

“I like it here,” he pouted even though she couldn’t see him. 

“You’re twenty-five and you live with your parents, Neil,” was all she said and he knew she had a point, but telling Allison that she was right about something meant she was going to Dangle it over your head for the rest of your days. “Okay, okay, regardless, congratulations are in order! When you’re done with work today you should come to Eden’s with us, it’ll be fun!” 

“Allison, I am a recovering alcoholic,” Neil deadpanned, but the truth is he would probably be fine with the others drinking around him. 

The woman sighed, asking, “Isn’t that what Andrew is for? Either way, we’re going out with just the old foxes, plus a couple of new ones because if we left out Aaron or Andrew, Nicky would throw an absolute fit. You should come, everyone would love to see you.” 

“It’s not my team anymore, Allison,” the words left the redhead’s mouth before he even processed what he was saying. He wasn’t sure if that was exactly how he felt, but the words had already left his mouth so it was too late anyway. He could tell that surprised Allison because she went silent for a moment. 

Her voice was quieter when she spoke next, saying, “Well, if you change your mind you know where we’ll be. Love you, Neil.” 

“Love you, too, Alli,” he muttered before hanging up the phone, feeling dejected like he had hurt her feelings. Sometimes he really did need to watch his tongue, even with Allison. It had a habit of getting him in trouble in every sense of the word.

“You should go,” a new voice joined him as he noticed Andrew standing in the doorway of the sliding glass door that led onto the balcony. There was a shopping bag in his hand that he tossed at Neil, “Nicky enlisted me to get you to go. He misses you, they all do. You never talk to them at practice and you certainly haven’t spoken to any of them since the game.” 

Neil was fairly sure that was the most words he had ever heard Andrew speak in a row in a conversation ever. He refrained from commenting on it as he responded with a resigned sigh, “I have work to do, besides, I really don’t know if going out surrounded by a bunch of drunk people is what’s best for me.” 

“Work can wait. You put it on hold for a few months, what’s one more night?” 

“I think the world is upside down.” Andrew’s only response was to raise an uninterested eyebrow. “You’re actually advocating for me to leave the house with you.”

He scoffed, motioning to the bag, “Nicky picked out the clothes and said he’d give me twenty dollars if you went. So, we’re going.” 

“I hate you,” Neil groaned as he began packing up his work and went inside. He was lying, of course, and Andrew knew that. Just like he knew Andrew didn’t hate him no matter how much the man tried to convince him of that. 

So that was how Neil ended up at Eden’s Twilight for the first time in probably years. His fingers pressed against the condensation on the icy glass of water on the table in front of him as he sipped it occasionally, watching Nicky do shots with Matt. Kevin was laughing as he filmed them, his own glass of water still half-full on the table. It was  _ fun. _

“I told you this would be nice,” Allison muttered as she leaned on Neil from the back with her arms hanging loosely over his chest and her head on his shoulder. “I missed you. We never hang out outside of me picking you up from jail.” 

“Yeah, hopefully, that won’t happen anymore,” Neil said with a small laugh as he reached up and entangled their fingers with a smile as the two of them watched the antics of the others. They were loud and out there in a way that was endearing rather than annoying and Neil realized how much he missed this. His college days were rough, to say the least, but this was one of the rare bright spots that had really carried him through and made him who he was now. They made him feel real. 

“We’re still your team,” Allison whispered in his ear, pressing a kiss to his cheek as they watched on with warm smiles. Out of the corner of his eye, Neil noticed Andrew watching them with hawk-like precision. It wasn’t long before the blond stood up from the table. 

“I’ll be right back okay?” Neil spoke after a moment as Allison nodded and let go of him. He took one more sip of water before he stood up from the stool and headed in the same direction Andrew had gone in. Maybe the others wouldn’t be able to tell, but it was clear to Neil that something had been bothering him. Andrew would call him a fool for wanting to make sure he was okay, but Neil was okay with being called one if it meant Andrew was okay. 

As expected, he found the man outside with a cigarette in between his lips and lighter freshly-pocketed. He didn’t say anything as Neil leaned against the brick wall next to him and looked out at the parking lot. In a situation like this, he figured it was best for him to just let Andrew speak if and when he wanted to. 

“Are you and Allison together?” Andrew asked after a moment of heavy silence, “I know you mentioned something with her once.” 

“Andrew, Allison is a lesbian,” Neil explained with a small laugh, “We almost hooked up in  _ college _ , but we both stopped it because we weren’t into it. For me, I wasn’t into her, and for her, she wasn’t into men. No, we are not together. Can I have one?”

Andrew didn’t speak a word as he pulled the pack of cigarettes out of his pocket, handing one to Neil and lighting it for him. There was something to be said about the intimate way Andrew cupped the cigarette for him and let the flame graze its end; his face close to Neil’s in a way it usually was not. Neil wasn’t going to speak on it, though, as Andrew took a step back and leaned back against the wall as he had moments ago. There was a silence between them that Neil was unsure he could carry, but the weight of Andrew next to him was too much to bear. There was a tease on the tip of his tongue, but it didn’t feel right to say it out loud.

So, instead, he simply asked, “Why?” 

“I was jealous,” Andrew spoke and Neil wondered why he spoke such a thing so bluntly. Maybe it had something to do with their conversation at night practice a couple days ago or maybe this was something else completely. Maybe this was all a part of something that had been silently brewing inside of Andrew for longer than Neil had known. Knowing Neil, there was a chance Andrew had been trying to make this known and Neil had just been an oblivious fool. That was more than likely. When Neil was silent, Andrew added, “That was my truth in return for yours. That’s all.” 

“Do you want to go back inside then?” Neil offered, not knowing where to go from here. Part of him liked the idea of Andrew being jealous of someone touching Neil. He couldn’t remember the last time someone had felt that way about him and coming from Andrew it made him feel… wanted. 

“I want a lot of things, Josten.” 

“Like what?” 

“To kiss you, for one, but I’m slowly coming to terms with the fact that that’s not going to happen.” 

There were a lot of things Neil could have said in response. It was rare someone would be so forward with him, but only someone who knew him well would know such a statement would be the only thing to help Neil realize any advances. This was all so new to him, but Neil couldn’t help but think it had been blooming for a while now. All of the responses fizzled away in his mind as he settled on the one he knew he wanted the most. 

“Why not?” 

Andrew looked at him slowly, pulling the cigarette out of his mouth and tossing it on the ground, smashing it further with his shoe. Neil did the same with his, a knowing smile on his face. 

“You’re an idiot.” 

“You like me.” 

“Shut up, yes or no?” 

Neil smiled, “Yes.” 

Andrew’s next move was to grab Neil gently by the collar and pull their lips together. It had been a long time since Neil had kissed anyone, but he knew that it never felt like this before. Nothing had ever felt like Andrew before, that much is true. Andrew moved against Neil’s lips like a whisper of confession was being passed between the two in a language only they knew. It is intimacy in its purest form -- understanding. It was over too soon as Andrew pulled himself away, holding Neil back against the wall as he took a step back. After a moment, the two men caught their breath and Andrew went back inside the club without another word. Neil stood there for a moment, his fingers pressing gingerly against his lips. 

In the night as he gazed out at the parking lot, he smiled. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i was gonna wait to make them kiss but then i decided i needed some serotonin so here it is you're welcome and sorry it's been two months :)


	13. Perfect Mundanity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things with Neil and Andrew have become... oddly domestic.

Andrew didn’t bring up what happened. Neither did Neil. There were bigger things to worry about, he supposed. Dating had never been a huge part of Neil’s life and it wasn’t like things were serious between him and Andrew. Although, if he was being honest, things were getting a little… domestic. 

“Looking at places?” Andrew asked one morning, settling down on the couch with two bowls of cereal in his hands -- cornflakes for Neil and Fruit Loops for himself. He nodded towards Neil’s open laptop on the coffee table that had a few listings in the city pulled up. Neil graciously accepted the cereal since he had yet to consume anything that morning save for half a cup of black coffee. Andrew had stayed the night solely because he and Neil had fallen asleep watching eighties horror movies. Neil liked to point things out that were inaccurate and then describe what actually happens from personal experience. Andrew was incredibly displeased every time. 

Neil nodded, “Yeah. As much as I love my dad --” a sentence he never thought he would say in his lifetime, “--I think I’m at a point where I don’t necessarily  _ need _ to be under his roof.” 

“Are there not any vacancies in this building?” Andrew asked as he leaned back on the couch and propped his legs up on the table, narrowly avoiding Neil’s now-cold coffee. “I’m sure rent would be a lot cheaper.”

“No, I don’t wanna stay here,” the man shook his head, “I wanna do it on my own. Just to prove I can.”

“Who are you trying to prove it to?”

“Myself,” he answered with a shrug as he shut the laptop, leaning back next to Andrew as he pondered his cornflakes. “It’s kinda shitty to be a twenty-five year old still living at home.”

“Not every twenty-five year old has crippling PTSD and alcoholism,” Andrew shrugged and Neil glared at him, but there wasn’t much malice behind it. 

Shaking his head, he muttered, “Asshole.”

Still, Andrew had a point. That didn’t make Neil want to move out any less, though. He felt like he was getting to a place in his life where he could think about the future instead of lingering in the ice-cold grip of the past. Maybe revisiting Exy had helped -- facing one of the parts of himself he hated the most. Maybe it was Andrew that had helped. Scratch that, Andrew was definitely a part of it. He didn’t even realize he had been staring at the man until he called him out.

“Quit staring at me,” Andrew chuckled -- a rare thing to hear from him. He met Neil’s eyes, something unsaid passing between them. “You have a serious problem with that, I’m telling you.”

Something about the way he felt for Andrew made him feel like a teenager again. Well, his late teens when things started getting better, he supposed. Neil never really had crushes. He dated people and on the (very) rare occasion would hook up with people, but he didn’t get the so-called butterflies in his stomach or the blushy cheeks. With Andrew, though, it was different. It was like he was feeling it for the first time and maybe he was. Maybe his feelings for Andrew were finally Neil indulging in something  _ he _ wanted rather than doing what everyone told him he needed to do. It was something he was in control of. 

Or maybe it was nothing. 

“I just like looking at you,” Neil let himself say, the words tumbling past his lips as the corners of his mouth quirked up into a small smile. His eyes darted away from the contact as he opted for staring out the window at the dreary city morning. He watched out of the corner of his eye as Andrew shifted so he was sitting tucked onto the sofa while he placed his cereal on the coffee table. 

“Neil,” Andrew spoke, “Put your bowl down.” It wasn’t a question; it didn’t have to be.

Neil listened. 

The next thing Andrew asked was, “Can I kiss you?”

Neil barely had the chance to nod before Andrew had pressed his lips against his and there it was again -- that feeling of giving into something he had been waiting for. He had a say in whether or not this got to happen and that made it that much better. He kept his hands on the edge of the sofa and the back edge, not wanting to touch Andrew unless he made sure it was okay. If Neil got to have control, it was only fair Andrew did too. 

Andrew seemed to realize this, pulling away just to say, “My hair. That’s it.” 

The next time their lips met, Neil allowed his fingers to entangle themselves in Andrew’s soft blond hair. Something about kissing Andrew was so different than anything Neil had experienced and it was odd to think about how remarkable it was. Nothing else mattered at this moment where it was just Neil and Andrew and the world had stopped in their wake -- allowing them this slowed-down moment just to drink each other in like men dying of dehydration.

The door opened and the world started again as the two men pulled apart from each other and were instantly alert with the idea of someone else in the room with them. Judging by the fact the blonde was staring down at her phone as she pushed open the door, they had a feeling Allison hadn’t seen a thing. Neil smiled to himself as he picked up his now-soggy cereal, trying to distract from the fact that Andrew’s hair was messed up as all Hell and Neil’s lips were suspiciously puffy. They were a perfect picture of an illicit affair, but it was something that still remained between only them. They shot a glance at each other before Neil cleared his throat to garner Allison’s attention. 

“Yes, hi, good morning,” Allison muttered as she walked over to the couch and sat down next to Neil. She leaned her head on her shoulder as she showed him an article on her phone. According to some blog, there was now a conspiracy thread going around that Neil was dead. He laughed out loud at that to which the blonde smacked him gently on the arm with a scoff. “Be serious! I’m your publicist if people start thinking you secretly died that means I am seriously  _ shit _ at my job. Neil, stop laughing. Oh, hi Andrew.”

“Hello, other blonde,” Andrew’s response was neutral -- no trace of the previous emotion on his face. Neil chuckled at the contrast like it was a joke only he understood. He could see Andrew glaring at him out of the corner of his eye. 

“Be serious,” Allison reiterated, “This is stupidly gaining a lot of traction. I won’t make you download social media since you’re too high and mighty for such things --” her voice dripped sarcasm on the words high and mighty but Neil just scoffed, “--but we have to announce your new book. I know it’s not done, so we’re gonna keep things as mysterious as possible, but we need something to prove you’re not dead. Also, you’ve got an interview and photoshoot with GQ, they wanna talk about the Exy game, your nonexistence love life, and mental health or some shit. I know you hate interviews, but you’re hot shit right now so deal with it.”

Neil groaned, “I  _ hate _ interviews, why would you do this to me? I can’t help but be mean to them, I blackout and the spirit of an intolerable asshole possesses me, I can’t help it.” 

“Just be boring and they’ll cut it short, I swear to God, Neil,” Allison groaned, but there was an affectionate undertone in the way they always spoke to each other. She pressed a kiss to his cheek before she stood, “Good talk. I’ll send you the details for everything and start getting things moving. See you two later.” 

As quickly as she had come, she was gone. 

“Neil Josten is dead,” was the first thing Andrew said once she left, “That’s a rumor I can get behind.” 

Neil just looked at him and rolled his eyes as he re-opened his laptop. The two of them continued their morning in perfect mundanity and Neil realized he quite liked how things were. That was a first in his life, that’s for sure. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here is pure fluff because i think neil deserves it <3


	14. Yes.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Neil has an interview and a conversation. It all feels surprisingly human.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: brief mentions of alcoholism and sobriety

“Uh, hello, my name is Neil Josten, I’m writing a book called  _ The Art Of Falling Together  _ and this is my interview for GQ,” Neil flashes a smile at the camera as he sits on a stool in front of a nondescript background. Allison must have tipped off the stylist that Neil is very much not a suit person because they had him dressed in an off-white button-up and some royal blue dress pants, but nothing fancier than that. He hated interviews like this, he hated most things where he had to be in front of a camera since whenever he  _ was  _ in front of a camera he usually caused trouble. Still, he had to promote his book somehow. 

There was a person standing next to the camera with the questions printed on cue cards. Neil was grateful he didn’t have to sit across from an actual human being and interact with them, he hated interviews like that. The fake niceties and the bullshit answers. It was much nicer when it was just him. 

The first question was simple,  _ What is your book about and when can we expect it?  _

“So, it’s about mental health, first and foremost. I know it’s different from what I usually write, everyone’s used to these grimy crime novels, but I wanted to write a grimy sad novel instead this time around,” he lets out a nervous chuckle, his hand scratching the back of his neck. He hopes he doesn’t look as nervous as he feels. “It’s about completely falling apart and putting yourself back together. It’s actually based on a lot of my own personal experience with alcoholism and finding out what support system works.” Surprisingly, he thought of Andrew when the words  _ support system  _ fell past his lips. A smile formed on his face. “Oh! And you can expect it on shelves within the next few months, still ironing out the details, but definitely before the end of this year.” 

_ So, the exy game?  _ Was the next question, which was one Neil had been dreading, but he would answer it nonetheless.

“Yeah, that game was definitely a last-minute thing,” he forced himself to sound casual and not to sound like the buzzer from the start of that game was still haunting him. God, he needed to get out of his own head sometimes. It was strange, he wasn’t usually so painfully aware that he was overthinking things, he usually just fell into the abyss that was complicated thought. “It’s been years since I stepped on the court, anyone knows that, but my dad would rather have a rookie like me on the court than willingly forfeit. We’ve always been a family of fighters, he tells me.” 

The next question that flashed in front of him was one he expected but dreaded. Any publication would pry on this, he knew. Even Allison had warned him.  _ Your sobriety has been highly publicized in the past, care to tell us how it’s going? _

“Sobriety is tricky,” Neil’s voice became starkly serious, all casualty from the previous answers was absent. “Uh, anyone facing any type of addiction will tell you, it’s not a straight road and it’s filled with ups and downs. I’ve been lucky to have more ups and downs, but I’m not out of the woods yet. My family and other people in my life have been a huge help with this. And if you’re out there, struggling with addiction, asking for help was always something I rejected. Anyone who knows anything about me knows I’m a runner and I always have been, but just don’t be afraid to reach out to the people who care about you. It’s hard and it sucks, but it’s for the best, trust me on that one.”

He hadn’t expected himself to be so honest, but the words came out of his mouth before he could stop them. Neil was never one to think before he spoke, that was nothing new, but oversharing about himself certainly was. Still, all he could do now was take a deep breath and move on. Besides, there was still a chance certain questions would be edited out in post-production. 

“We’re gonna do some more light-hearted questions,” the director spoke with a nod towards Neil and he just forced a smile on his face and nodded. The cue cards shifted.

_ There’s rumors about a romance between you and a Fox, care to share?  _

He hesitated. He and Andrew hadn’t made anything official and even if they had, they were both incredibly private people. He wanted to keep Andrew to himself for a little bit longer, but he knew how he had to play this.

A teasing smile shifted onto his expression, “Ah, what’s the word? Oh, yeah, no comment.” 

The rest of the interview flew by and Neil was thankful when he got to change out of the stuffy outfit and throw on his favorite gray sweatshirt and jeans. He had dressed the exact same as he did when he was a teenager, but you can’t fix what isn’t broken. When he was ready to go, he was joined by Allison and Andrew who had accompanied him -- Allison because she was obligated to as his publicist and best friend, and Andrew because Neil had asked nicely. 

“You are my favorite person right now, that was literally perfect,” Allison exclaimed the moment she saw him, “God, you’re so charming on camera it makes me wonder why you’re such an asshole the rest of the time.”

He rolled his eyes, a small smile forming on his face, “I’ve always been a great liar, I don’t know why you’re so surprised I can be a normal person for twenty minutes.” 

“You looked good out there,” Andrew finally spoke, but his voice was quiet so only Neil could hear. Neil’s heart beat a bit faster at the compliment, but he wasn't going to give Andrew the satisfaction of knowing that. “I didn’t know that was what your book was about.”

“It wasn’t going to be originally,” Neil shrugged as they walked into the parking lot. “But, it sort of… shifted along the way and now that’s what it is. Don’t worry, you’ll get a signed copy.” 

Andrew glared at him as they headed towards the Maserati. Allison neglectfully shoved herself in the backseat, still huffing about not getting shotgun. She leaned over the back of Neil’s seat as he sat down, asking, “Why didn’t you tell me you were dating someone? Let alone someone on the team. As your publicist, I do kind of need to know that.”

“What part of no comment did you not get?” Neil teased, his gaze shifting ever-so-slightly to check Andrew’s expression. It was unchanged. “Besides, it’s kind of new.”

Allison, observant as ever, picked up on this right away, “Andrew, if you and Neil are a thing I need to know right away. Also, the date of origin because there’s a whole betting pool going and if this happened two weeks ago, I win it all.”

“I’ll tell you, but only if you split it with me,” Andrew spoke, his face completely neutral as he kept his eyes on the road.

“Oh my  _ God,  _ I am good! I mean, like, we all saw it coming, but I got the timeframe right and everything! Oh, this is amazing,” Allison was exclaiming as she was already tapping away on her phone, probably texting Renee or texting the group of foxes. 

“What do you mean you all saw this coming?” Neil whipped around, a lock of auburn hair falling in his face as he faced her. With only slight hesitation, Andrew lifted his hand and put the lock of hair back in place like it was the most natural thing in the world. 

The girl looked at him skeptically as if she couldn’t tell if he was being serious, “Neil, hun, Andrew’s liked you since college.”

“Reynolds, I will stop this car and kick you into the road,” Andrew’s voice was threatening and Neil almost believed him for a minute. Allison just laughed harder. 

“No way,” Neil muttered, looking from Andrew to Allison to see which one of them was going to reveal they were joking, “We didn’t even go to college together!” 

Andrew, surprisingly, was the one to answer this, “I… have always been a fan of PSU. Ask Kevin. I almost went there, too, but Aaron wanted to stay in Chicago. When you came in your freshman year, you were interesting, to say the least.” 

“Oh, wow,” Neil was enjoying this thoroughly now that he had confirmation from the man next to him, “You have a  _ crush  _ on me. Holy shit. A multi-year crush on me. Oh, you’re never living this down.”

“Don’t think I won’t kill you,” Andrew shook his head, but if Neil squinted he could almost see a smile on his face. “Allison, you’re dead to me.” 

“Worth it,” she shrugged as she held up a hand without looking up from her phone. With no hesitation, Neil high-fived it. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Andrew roll his eyes. 

Part of Neil couldn’t believe this was his life now. He had a book he was genuinely passionate about on the way, he was finally letting himself have a relationship with someone, and he was sober. If nineteen-year-old Neil could see himself now, he’d probably drop dead. 

“Stop thinking so hard about it,” Andrew spoke after a moment once silence had fallen over the car. They pulled into the parking lot, but once Allison got out, Andrew stayed. Neil seemed to get the message and he didn’t move either. “Are we really gonna let her tell everyone about us?”

“I wasn’t really aware there was an us,” Neil muttered. It was true, to a degree. They were already way too domestic and comfortable with each other, but besides kissing a few times, they hadn’t really discussed any labels. It was never anything that was important to Neil and it didn’t seem important to Andrew either, so he had been content to leave things the way they were.

“There isn’t,” Andrew confirmed, but he hesitated for a moment before adding, “Yet.”

“Yet,” Neil repeated, asking, “Do you want there to be?” When Andrew didn’t answer, Neil added. “Yes or no?”

Andrew was quiet for a moment, his eyes avoiding Neil’s. The man didn’t mind, Andrew was pretty much famous for being closed-off and out of touch with his emotions. Neil would accept any answer he was given, despite his feelings for Andrew. It had been forever since Neil had real feelings for someone, but these feelings were more real than anything Neil had experienced thus far. So, he waited. 

A moment too long passed and Neil almost considered giving up on it, but he knew Andrew was worth it. Finally, the blond turned to face him, saying, “Yes.” 

Neil let himself smile, “Then, there’s an us.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it's been two months, but are we surprised? I'm not. Anyway, I've decided I'm gonna end this fic next chapter so sorry if it seems like things wrap up quickly, I never planned for this to be a super long fic, but I never plan fics at all so this is just how the cookie crumbled. Also fun fact, this'll be the first chaptered fic I've actually finished on ao3 lmao


	15. Let's Go

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A couple of months have passed. Neil moves.

“Sad to see you go kid,” Wymack clapped a hand on Neil’s shoulder as they stood in Neil’s bare apartment which was now covered in boxes and unassembled furniture. The action would have caused Neil to flinch so many years ago, but now it was just natural.

“Oh, God, don’t make it a thing, you’ll still see me,” Neil scoffed as he put down the box he was holding. Andrew came up the stairs with another box, placing it down and heading back down to help. 

The apartment was significantly smaller than Neil was used to, but he had never been one for having a lot of empty space somewhere. He found he quite liked the coziness of the apartment, it was part of what drew him to it. He would be living alone, although Andrew had convinced him to get a cat to keep him company because he knew Neil would need something to talk to even if it wasn’t going to respond. So, Sir Fat Cat McCatterson was currently being watched by Allison while they moved Neil in. 

“So, you’re  _ sure  _ about this?” the man asked as he looked around the apartment to avoid looking at Neil. He knew the man didn’t want him to go, but Neil needed to prove to himself that he could do something by himself. He knew he didn't have to, but he wanted to. Independence had always been important to Neil and he had lost it in the last few years. 

Neil nodded, “Yeah, yeah, I’m sure.”

“Okay, okay,” Wymack brushed him off, “I’m gonna go help Minyard with the last of the boxes. You coming or you gonna start unpacking?” 

“I’ll stay up here and start putting this place together,” Neil motioned down the stairs where Wymack disappeared down. He was only alone for a moment before Andrew came back up, placing a box down, but staying for a moment. 

“I finished your book,” Andrew spoke, breaking the comfortable silence. Neil looked over at him, liking the way the sun was shining in through the windows, making Andrew’s light hair look golden. 

Neil scoffed, “I would hope so, I gave you a copy of it for a reason. What’d you think?”

“It was good.” This caught him off guard considering he had expected some smart remark about how the main character was a self-sabotaging asshole (Neil based the main character a little bit on himself, he’ll be honest), but no. Andrew said it was good. Neil smiled. “Don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what?” the man shook his head as he took a step closer to the blond, moving next to him so they could look at the apartment. It was comforting to have Andrew near him. They had only been officially together for a few months, but Neil had a feeling they were going to last. He had never let himself have a connection with anyone, he never saw the point, not until he had Andrew. He didn’t want to let that go. 

“Like I’m the answer.”

“To what question?”

“You tell me,” Andrew scoffed, shaking his head slightly as he avoided his eyes. “Good place you got here.”

Neil laughed at this, “Of course, I had the best person help me pick it out.” 

“You’re gross.”

“You like it.”

“Maybe I do,” the blond shot back as he turned around upon hearing Wymack coming back up the stairs. 

As Wymack placed down what Neil could only assume was the last box judging by his father’s satisfied expression, he said, “You know, Josten, for the kid I met who carried his entire livelihood in a duffle bag, you sure have accumulated a lot of shit. That’s the last of it, should be.” 

“Thanks for helping out,” Neil held back the laugh. He was pretty sure his old duffle bag was shoved in one of these boxes, long since emptied. He really had no use for it, he wasn’t running anymore. It was a comforting thought. “You heading out?”

“Yeah, I should get home,” Wymack nodded, it seemed weird to think of their homes as two separate places but Neil supposed he would get used to it. “Minyard, if you’re late to practice tomorrow I’m trading your ass.”

“Try me,” was Andrew’s toneless response. Neil just shook his head at the two of them before bidding Wymack goodbye and closing the door, leaving just the two of them in the apartment alone. “Want me to stay and help?”

Neil nodded, “If you’re offering. Hey, come here, yes or no?”

“Yes,” Andrew nodded as he stepped over to Neil, letting the man pull him in by the back of his neck for a soft kiss. Neil smiled into the kiss and he knew Andrew was going to call him a sap for it, but he didn’t care. When they pulled away, Andrew confirmed this, “Sap.” 

“You like it,” Neil rolled his eyes as he began grabbing the boxes labeled ‘bedroom’ and carrying them to where they were supposed to be. They had done all the difficult heavy lifting with furniture the previous day which Neil was grateful for because he could always abandon his boxes and put them off, but still, have a bed to fall back on. Neil was strangely content with the way life was going for him, which was something he never thought he was going to get to feel. For someone who was never in one place for long, he was starting to like it. 

“You are unpacking incredibly slow,” Andrew came up behind him with another labeled box, placing it down next to the one Neil had just brought in. “At this rate, you’ll be done by New Year’s.”

“Oh, shove off,” Neil laughed, shaking his head. He felt content when he looked at Andrew, which was a new feeling entirely. He found he liked this feeling. It was something he could see himself getting used to. “I’m taking it in. These are important memories in the making, you know.”

Andrew scoffed, “People move all the time, what’s so important about this one?”

“You’re here,” he shrugged as he leaned against the door frame with his arms crossed, Andrew across from him, mirroring his position. “It’s something I want to remember.” 

He could tell Andrew’s instinct was to respond with some insult, considering he opened his mouth and then closed it again. After a moment, he reached out and Neil nodded. The blond reached out and held each side of Neil’s face as he pressed a kiss to his forehead. It was so sickly sweet, Neil wanted to revel in the feeling forever. 

“Come on,” Andrew spoke softly after the moment hung in the air, “Let’s make this place habitable.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a comfort fic of mine so of course, I had to give it an open-ended happy ending, y'all already know! Anyway, thank you for sticking by this fic, especially if you've been here since it was posted in January. I hope y'all enjoyed!


End file.
